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CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 
1917-1919 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

IWW  YORK  •   BOSTON  •   CHICAGO  •  DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limitkd 

LONDON  •   BOMBAY  •  CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THl  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA.  LTUt 

TOXONTO 


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■■■-       V, 


Hi'    ^ 


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CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

1917--1919 


BY 

MARIAN  BALDWIN 


jfl3eto  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1920 

AU  rights  reserved 


COPYEIGHT,  1920, 

BT  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  June,  1920 


bcj^bin 


TO  THE  BOYS 
WHO  NEVER  CAME  BACK 


This  little  record  of  work  —  which  was  priv- 
ilege ;  of  sacrifice  —  which  was  unself -conscious ; 
of  Courage  —  which  was  a  commonplace;  and, 
most  of  all,  of  Beauty,  which  was  just  gallant  en- 
durance of  more  than  one  dull  job;  —  this  rec- 
ord of  what  one  Y.  M.  O.  A.  Worker  did  in 
France,  is  especially  moving  to  me,  because  I 
was  with  her  part  of  the  time,  and  watched  the 
ideal  of  Service  unfold  and  blossom  in  her  char- 
acter. I  am  glad  that  her  letters,  telling  so  sim- 
ply of  the  gay  splendor  of  those  dark  days  in 
France,  have  been  gathered  together  in  this  little 
book. 

Margaret  Deland. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEE  PAGE 

I  At  Sea 1 

II  Paris 10 

III  Bordeaux 48 

IV  Aix-les-Bains 64 

V  The  Lorraine  Sector      .     .      .     .  96 

VI  The  Argonne 131 

VII  The  St.  Mihiel  Front    ....  146 

VIII  Verdun 170 

IX  Germany 181 

Note:  These  are  the  original  letters,  except 
for  insertion  of  names  of  places,  persons,  and  a 
few  other  indications,  which,  because  of  the  cen- 
sorship, had  perforce  to  be  omitted  from  the  let- 
ters as  mailed  from  Europe. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  Recollection  Map Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAOB 

The  "  Y  "  at  Bordeaux 54 

At  the  Aix  Railway  Station 78 

Baccarat 110 

French  Dugouts  near  Bem6court   .      .      .  154 

The  Prospect  for  a  Canteen 174 

The  Festhalle  at  Coblenz 188 

A  "  Y  "  Sightseeing  Trip 194 


CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 


CHAPTER  I 

AT  SEA 

On  Board  La  Touraine, 

June  30th,  1917. 

Even  now  that  we  are  out  of  sight  of  land,  it 
seems  impossible  that  I  am  actually  off  to  France 
and,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  traveling  alone. 
Everything  has  happened  so  quickly  since  the 
American  Fund  for  French  Wounded  found  an 
opening  for  me  in  Paris  that  I  suppose  I  am  still 
somewhat  dazed  and  bewildered.  The  fact  that 
I  don't  know  what  it  will  all  be  like  and  that  I 
can't  look  ahead  makes  it  easier  to  be  happy  and 
live  in  the  present.  Of  course  I  have  had  a  bit 
of  a  taste  in  New  York  of  the  work  that  the  A.  F. 
F.  W.  is  doing  but  its  Headquarters  in  Paris  will 
be  different  in  some  ways  I  fancy. 

I  can't  get  over  how  lucky  I  am  to  have  this 
chance  for  I  realize  how  few  girls  of  my  age  are 
getting  across,  and  I  understood  the  grit  and 
pluck  which  made  you  encourage  me  on  my  great 
adventure  and  send  me  along  a  path  which  has 
proved  so  dangerous  of  late. 

As  we  drifted  down  the  river,  in  the  sunset 


2  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

glow  with  two  absurd  tugs  puffing  alongside,  I 
know  that  many  eyes  were  moist  and  that  the 
same  thought  was  in  all  our  minds.  How  many 
of  this  ship's  company  will  see  that  sky-line 
again!  It  was  very  quiet,  no  one  spoke  much, 
and,  little  by  little,  the  glow  faded  from  the  sky 
and  one  star  after  another  appeared.  I  knew 
that  you  would  be  looking  at  those  same  stars 
down  in  Lakewood  and  that  your  thoughts  and 
prayers  were  the  same  that  filled  my  heart  at  that 
moment.  Somehow  distance  does  not  separate, 
after  all. 

We  waited  near  the  Statue  of  Liberty  until 
midnight  —  a  rumor  had  it  that  a  "  personage  " 
was  to  come  on  board.  This  individual  was 
shrouded  in  mystery  until  we  put  to  sea  when 
it  was  given  out  that  the  party  which  had  clam- 
bered aboard  in  the  night  was  none  other  than 
the  Italian  Mission.  Our  spirits  rose  at  once 
for,  what  with  Frank  Sayre  on  the  boat  and  these 
distinguished  Italian  gentlemen,  we  shall  doubt- 
less be  honored  by  a  bigger  convoy  and  so  doubly 
safe.  However,  thus  far  we  have  but  two  de- 
stroyers following  us.  They  can  be  seen  dis- 
tinctly outlined  against  the  horizon,  one  on  each 
side,  and  seem  to  be  the  same  somber  gray  which 
all  ships  are  affecting  in  this  war.  A  sailor  in- 
formed me  this  morning  that  we  weren't  in  much 
danger  for  the  first  four  or  five  days  but  that 
after  that  I  might  see  some  excitement.  Here's 
hoping ! 


AT  SEA  3 

I  have  a  small  inside  cabin  and  my  room- 
mate is  quite  a  character.  She  is  a  native  of 
Haiti,  voluble  and  very  portly  —  has  four  large 
pieces  of  baggage  in  our  tiuy  stateroom,  wears  a 
costume  which  resembles  a  Mother  Hubbard  and 
smokes  countless  thin  cigarettes  that  smell  like 
incense !  When  I  appeared,  there  didn't  seem  to 
be  much  room  for  me  but,  as  she  says,  luckily  I 
am  small,  and  I  was  soon  tucked  into  the  upper 
berth  with  my  belongings !  She  really  isn't  bad 
and  after  looking  me  over  carefully  told  me  that 
she  didn't  think  we  would  fight  and  from  that 
time  has  beamed  upon  me !  She  is  going  over  to 
join  her  son  who  has  been  fighting  with  the 
French  since  the  beginning  of  the  war  but  will 
never  go  back  to  the  Front  now,  having  lost  some 
fingers  off  each  hand.  She  is  so  thankful,  she 
says,  that  he  hasn't  lost  more  than  his  fingers. 

La  Touraine,  July  3rd,  1917. 
I  have  been  moved  to  the  Captain's  table  and 
as  nothing  but  French  is  spoken  I  have  had  to 
take  the  fatal  plunge  also  and  find  my  vocabulary 
sadly  shrunken  after  three  years.  However,  I 
can  understand  perfectly  and,  as  you  know,  I  am 
more  of  a  success  as  a  listener  anyway.  The  con- 
versation is  very  worth  while  and  I  quite  look 
forward  to  meal  times.  Frank  Sayre  is  at  our 
table,  also  Major  and  Mrs.  Bert  McCormick. 
The  Major  has  been  a  member  of  the  National 
Guard  for  years  and  went  to  Texas  with  his 


4  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

squadron.  He  is  now  on  his  way  to  join  the 
A.  E.  F.  His  father  was  former  Ambassador  to 
Russia,  as  you  know,  and  Major  McCormick  was 
over  there  as  a  guest  of  the  Grand  Duke  and  spent 
quite  a  lot  of  time  on  the  Russian  front,  so,  of 
course,  he  is  absolutely  up  on  that  end  of  things. 

I  have  made  friends  with  some  of  the  Italian 
Mission,  also  a  French  Baron,  a  cavalry  officer 
who  has  been  out  in  Wyoming  buying  huge  quan- 
tities of  horses  for  the  allied  armies.  Among 
the  Italians,  Signor  Nitti  seems  to  me  the  keenest 
and  most  interesting.  He  is  a  very  loyal  and 
patriotic  person;  he  urged  his  son,  who  is  only 
nineteen,  to  enlist  as  soon  as  Italy  entered  the 
war.  From  his  portrait  the  son  is  a  fine  looking 
boy.  As  he  has  recently  been  wounded,  Signor 
Nitti  is  in  a  fever  of  impatience  to  get  to  him. 

We  have  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  ambulance 
men  on  board  who  are  on  their  way  to  join  the 
Field,  or  the  Norton-Harjes  Service,  in  France. 
Among  them  is  a  Buffalo  Unit  and  we  have 
found  a  lot  of  friends  in  common.  There  are  also 
a  number  of  very  young  lads  going  over  to  join 
the  Lafayette  Escadrille.  They  tell  me  that  they 
couldn't  get  into  the  American  Aviation  owing  to 
the  very  strict  physical  test.  I  like  one  of  these 
boys  especially,  Billy  Taller  by  name ;  he  is  very 
charming  and  thoughtful  and  has  kept  me  sup- 
plied with  sweet  butter,  honey  and  other  delica- 
cies which  were  showered  upon  him  on  the  dock 
by  kind  friends. 


AT  SEA  5 

Mrs.  C,  whom  you  introduced,  seems  very  nice, 
but  since  I  came  to  her  rescue  with  the  bath- 
steward  she  loves  me  like  life.  She  needn't  have 
bothered,  for  shortly  after  our  joint  conversa- 
tion on  the  subject  of  baths,  she  left  her  port-hole 
open  by  mistake  and  two  tidal  waves  entered 
her'  state-room  one  after  the  other.  Mrs.  C. 
emerged  looking  like  a  drowned  rat !/ 

La  Touraine,  July  4th,  1917. 

We  have  run  into  a  hot  wave  and,  of  course,  I 
am  perfectly  happy  although  thankful  for  my 
thin  clothes.  Every  one  knows  every  one  else 
now  and  we  are  having  a  wonderful  time.  I  feel 
like  the  only  girl  at  a  house-party  of  almost  two 
hundred  men.  All  the  other  women  on  board  are 
married  and  older  with  the  exception  of  one  very 
charming  Quaker  bride  who  is  about  my  age. 
It's  an  interesting  bunch  for,  of  course,  every  one 
here  is  going  abroad  with  some  definite  work  in 
view  which  makes  them  more  or  less  worth  while. 

This  morning  we  had  a  very  moving  meeting 
to  celebrate  the  first  Fourth  since  our  country 
entered  the  war.  Frank  Sayre  and  Major  Mc- 
Cormick  both  spoke  exceedingly  well.  Every  one 
was  much  stirred  and  sobered  by  the  realization 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  job  ahead. 

On  account  of  the  intense  heat,  Mrs.  C.  and  I, 
accompanied  by  our  life  preservers,  have  been 
sleeping  on  deck.  We  each  have  a  mattress  and 
a  steamer  rug  spread  out  and  find  this  method  of 


6  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

spending  the  night  infinitely  superior  to  our 
suffocating  little  cabins.  Hosts  of  people  have 
followed  our  example.  At  about  4 :30  a.  m.,  the 
sailors  begin  to  appear  with  their  pails  and  mops 
and  then  the  deck  takes  on  a  strange  appearance ; 
pajama  clad  figures  walking  nonchalantly  about ! 

La  Touraine,  July  5th,  1917. 

Every  day  a  little  newspaper  is  printed  on 
board.  The  news  comes  by  wireless.  The  sheet 
appears  about  11  a.  m.  To-day  we  are  rejoicing 
over  the  fact  that  the  Russians  have  resumed 
fighting  on  the  southwestern  Front  —  it  is  so 
vital  just  now  that  they  should  hold  on,  it  takes 
one's  breath  away  to  contemplate  what  would 
happen  if  they  didn't. 

This  letter,  I  know,  is  most  messy  but  I  carry 
it  around  all  day  with  me  and  it  takes  on  the 
atmosphere  of  the  boat. 

To-morrow  we  shall  have  been  gone  a  week  and 
it  seems  perfectly  incredible.  I  have  had  and  am 
having  such  a  good  time  that  I  haven't  really 
been  homesick  yet,  but  I  expect,  when  I  get  to 
Paris  and  start  work,  I  shall  have  an  awful  dose 
of  it. 

There  are  all  kinds  of  rumors  going  about 
which  seem  to  increase  as  we  approach  the  war 
zone.  The  Captain  won't  open  his  mouth  on  the 
subject  of  submarines  although  there  are  sup- 
posed to  be  three  pursuing  us.  All  we  know  is 
that  we  change  our  course  constantly  and  are 


AT  SEA  7 

zigzagging  our  way  across  the  Atlantic.  Our 
two  destroyers  turned  back  after  we  had  been  out 
two  days  and  since  then  we  have  had  no  convoy 
whatever.  Every  one  misses  the  sight  of  those 
two  watchful  gray  forms  on  the  horizon  and  since 
they  disappeared  we  have  felt  a  very  wee  dot  on 
a  very  big  ocean ! 

La  Touraine,  July  8th,  1917. 
Friday  night  we  entered  the  war  zone  at  seven 
o'clock  but  you  would  never  know  it.  Aside 
from  boat-drills  and  sleeping  on  deck  people  act 
as  usual.  The  officers  on  the  boat  are  very  par- 
ticular about  the  drills;  several  times  the  alarm 
has  sounded  and  we  have  been  taught  just  what 
to  do  in  case  we  are  hit.  It's  very  funny  to  see 
the  people  rush  below  for  their  valuables,  strap- 
ping on  their  life  preservers  as  they  go  (which 
we  always  have  near  at  hand  wherever  we  are  — 
on  deck  or  in  the  saloon).  In  about  five  min- 
utes we  are  lined  up,  divided  into  groups  in 
front  of  our  own  particular  life-boats  which  have 
been  swung  out  over  the  sea  ready  to  lower. 
Every  one  is  checked  off  and  each  man  is  told 
what  woman  he  is  to  save.  (Great  excitement 
at  this  point  as  no  one  of  the  men  wants  to  save 
the  lady  detailed  to  him,  but  some  one  in  another 
boat!)  We  all  stand  about  looking  too  absurd 
and  bumping  into  each  other's  life  preservers  on 
the  crowded  upper  deck.  Finally  the  signal  is 
given  which  releases  us,  and  we  all  file  down 


8  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

again  to  take  off  the  clumsy  heavy  jackets  of 
safety  and  regale  ourselves  with  various  amuse- 
ments on  the  deck. 

Rumor  has  it  that  two  ships  have  been  sunk, 
one  in  the  course  ahead  of  where  we  were  yester- 
day and  the  other  about  an  hour  behind  us.  No 
one  knows  how  many  lives  were  lost.  Perhaps 
those  three  submarines  were  more  fact  than  fic- 
tion after  all. 

It  is  thought  that  we  should  make  Bordeaux 
by  Tuesday  morning  if  all  goes  well  and  that  the 
convoy  which  should  have  met  us  days  ago  will 
be  with  us  to-night. 

This  being  Sunday,  the  boys  on  board  are  very 
much  dressed  up,  that  is  to  say  they  are  wearing 
clean  shirts  and  have  their  hair  brushed!  It's 
a  perfect  day,  warm  and  cloudless,  and  I've  been 
lying  in  the  sun  adding  to  my  coat  of  tan.  We 
all  feel  quite  sad  that  the  voyage  is  so  nearly 
over  —  it  has  been  such  loads  of  fun  and  I  shall 
hate  saying  good-by  to  every  one. 

Ld  Touraine,  July  11th,  1917. 
Actually  in  sight  of  land  and  all  danger  past ! 
Last  night  was  a  great  strain  —  Our  convoy 
didn't  find  us  till  dawn.  It  was  a  wild  night, 
with  torrents  of  rain  and  a  high  wind.  How  our 
little  boat  pitched  and  tossed!  No  one  was  al- 
lowed below  so  we  paced  the  deck  all  night. 
Finally  the  dawn  came  and  the  storm  abated  and 
we  realized  how  fortunate  we  had  been.     Our 


AT  SEA  9 

chances  wouldn't  have  been  nearly  as  good  of 
slipping  through  the  submarine  ring  with  a 
brilliant  moon  to  show  us  up. 

I  am  feeling  wonderfully  well;  physically  the 
trip  has  done  me  no  end  of  good.  We  shall 
land  soon  now  and  in  a  few  hours  my  cable  will 
have  reached  you  and  your  anxiety  will  be  over. 
So  ends  the  first  lap  of  the  journey.  Now  for 
the  real  venture.  Thank  God  for  the  opportunity 
and  for  you  unselfish  ones  at  home. 


CHAPTER  II 

PARIS 

En  route  from  Bordeaux  to  Paris, 

July  18th,  1917. 

On  landing  yesterday  I  went  straight  to  the 
Hdtel  de  France  and  it  certainly  was  good  to 
have  room  to  turn  around  in:  as  for  a  bed 
with  real  springs  I  greeted  it  with  enthus- 
iasm! Towards  evening  Frank  and  I  took 
a  long  walk  about  the  city.  A  port  town 
always  interests  me  and  we  saw  it  all  at  the 
loveliest  time  of  day.  The  harbor  was  full  of 
fishing  smacks  and  small  craft  of  all  kinds  and 
exquisite  tones  in  the  sails  and  rigging.  The  last 
raj^s  of  the  sun  cast  a  rosy  hne  over  everything, 
making  one  think  at  once  of  Venice  and  the  days 
before  the  war.  Later  we  wandered  through 
some  of  the  oldest  parts  of  Bordeaux  and  I  really 
felt  that  I  was  abroad  again !  The  narrow  wind- 
ing streets  and  cobblestones,  with  here  and  there 
an  ancient  facade  or  doorway  and  everywhere,  in 
the  poorest  alleys,  a  bit  of  a  vine  or  potted  plant 
in  the  windows.  How  do  they  manage  to  make  it 
all  so  picturesque  and  alluring? 

The  women  and  the  old  men  are  doing  every- 
thing and  it  is  surprising  to  see  the  lady  conduc- 

10 


PARIS  11 

tors.  On  this  train  they  use  women  entirely, 
even  in  the  dining  car.  The  war  hasn't  robbed 
them  of  vivacity  or  their  beautiful  complexions 
and  I  believe  they  are  even  prettier  in  their  simple 
black  working  clothes  than  before. 

We  are  at  present  passing  through  the  famous 
vineyards  and  I  have  never  seen  the  country  look 
so  beautiful.  The  crops  seem  in  perfect  condi- 
tion, thanks  to  the  patient  labor  of  these  wonder- 
ful women,  and  the  grain  waves  in  profusion 
everywhere.  I  have  longed  for  you  at  every 
turn,  how  you  would  enjoy  it  all.  The  poppies 
are  in  their  prime  and,  as  the  train  whirls  by, 
they  look  like  immense  splashes  of  red  —  almost 
like  stains  of  blood  against  the  gold  of  the  wheat, 

I  have  just  come  in  from  a  very  excellent  meal 
in  the  dining  car  —  the  food  was  served  promptly 
by  two  French  girls  of  the  peasant  type  and  with 
a  speed  that  was  wonderful,  the  car  holding  over 
thirty  persons. 

Paris,  July  13th,  1917. 

I'm  so  thankful  for  a  spot  which  I  can  call  my 

own.     Aunt  T is  wonderful,  of  course,  had 

flowers,  fruits,  candy,  etc.,  in  my  room  and  is 
proceeding  to  spoil  me  as  usual. 

Mrs.  Needham  has  already  told  me  much  about 
the  work  the  American  Fund  for  French 
Wounded  is  doing  on  this  side.  It  seems  that 
the  greater  part  of  its  workers  are  being  increas- 
ingly absorbed  by  the  Red  Cross  and  for  that 


12  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

reason  there  are  openings  and  I  shall  be  able  to 
step  right  in,  which  pleases  me  no  end.  The 
work  will  consist  of  packing,  mostly.  The  sup- 
plies from  the  States  are  unpacked,  sorted  and 
divided  among  the  hospitals  all  over  France 
which  the  American  Fund  is  supplying.  My  job 
will  be  packing  the  things  into  bales  of  burlap, 
sewing  them  up  and  marking  them  for  shipment. 
The  addresses  are  printed  on  the  burlap  with  a 
large  brush  and  I  am  more  than  thankful  that  I 
know  how  to  print.  Everything  seems  to  come  in 
handy  in  war-work. 

Paris  is  as  beautiful  as  ever  but  one  is  not  al- 
lowed to  forget  that  it  is  war  time,  which  is,  of 
course,  as  it  should  be.  For  instance,  two  days 
a  week  no  one  is  allowed  meat;  one  day  no  tea 
or  coffee,  and  one  day  no  sweets.  Naturally 
these  rules  are  being  made  stricter  all  the  time 
as  the  food  gets  scarcer.  There  is  no  hot  water 
anywhere  except  Saturday  and  Sunday  and,  of 
course,  the  "  war  bread  "  which  is  a  bit  like  our 
rye  bread  and  really  good. 

H6tel  Lutetia,  Paris,  July  14th,  1917. 

Mrs.  Needham  has  told  me  what  is  proper  and 
has  given  me  a  list  of  restaurants  where  one  can 
lunch  safely  with  a  man !  Just  now  I  am  going 
out  a  great  deal,  but  in  a  day  or  two  most  of  the 
boys  will  be  gone. 

I  started  in  work  yesterday  and  adore  it.  Our 
headquarters   are  marvelously  situated  on   the 


PARIS  13 

Champs  Elys6es  and  the  packing  rooms  open  on 
two  sides  and  look  out  on  the  gardens  surround- 
ing the  Cafe  des  Ambassadeurs.  Although  I  am 
on  my  feet  continually,  the  work  doesn't  seem  to 
tire  me  and  you  can  imagine  my  joy  at  having 
a  regular  job  which  will  keep  me  busy  from  morn- 
ing until  night. 

Paris,  July  16th,  1917. 
Last  night  I  witnessed  my  first  air  raid  and  it 
was  every  bit  as  thrilling  as  anticipated.  I  was 
awakened  out  of  a  sound  sleep  by  a  chorus  of 
the  most  gruesome  sirens  imaginable,  that,  com- 
bined with  the  noise  of  the  fire  engines  rushing 
through  the  streets  and  the  blowing  of  horns 
made  it  quite  impossible  to  go  back  to  sleep. 

Also  at  that  moment  Aunt  T came  to  my  door 

fully  dressed  and  told  me  to  put  on  my  clothes  in 
case  it  should  prove  to  be  a  bad  raid  and  wiser  to 
descend  under  ground.  After  the  first  burst  of 
alarms  a  deathly  stillness  fell  upon  the  city,  all 
the  lights  were  switched  off  and  we  were  left  in 

the  pitch  dark.     Aunt  T and  I  hung  out  of 

my  window  and  awaited  developments.  It  was  a 
night  to  dream  of,  absolutely  clear  and  the  sky 
a-glitter  with  a  myriad  of  stars.  It  seemed  in- 
credible that  out  of  that  vast  stretch  of  beauty 
should  come  those  death-dealing  creatures  on 
wings.  However  in  a  few  moments  we  knew  that 
the  Boches  had  crossed  our  lines  and  were  flying 
on  Paris,  for  at  once  a  dozen  or  so  French  pursuit 


14  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

planes  put  off  and  in  a  moment  they  could  be  seen 
dashing  here  and  there  across  the  heavens  like 
so  many  fire-flies.  These  planes  carry  one  light 
and  when  they  swoop  down  rapidly,  it  looks  ex- 
actly like  a  falling  star.  All  at  once  the  anti- 
air-craft  guns  began  and  in  all  my  life  I  have 
never  heard  such  a  racket.  I  didn't  believe  there 
could  be  anything  louder  and  then  suddenly  a 
bomb  dropped  and  the  deafening  crash  com- 
pletely obliterated  for  a  second  all  other  sounds. 
They  say  this  morning  that  two  enemy  planes 
were  over  Paris  and  five  bombs  in  all  were 
dropped.  The  list  of  dead  and  wounded  has  not 
yet  been  published  but  it  is  a  long  one.  The  war 
has  suddenly  become  a  reality. 

Yesterday,  Sunday,  I  lunched  with  Aunt  T 

and  Uncle  J and  later  took  a  walk  with  Billy 

Tailer.  He  is  here  for  a  week  before  going  off 
to  his  flying  school  at  Avord.  The  danger  in 
aviation  is  very  great,  much  more  so  than  any 
one  in  America  realizes.  The  average  life  of  an 
aviator  at  the  front  is  six  months.  Bill  has  been 
telling  me  the  most  hair-raising  tales !  It  seems 
that  any  boy  going  into  it  has  practically  no 
chance  at  all  unless  he  is  wounded  so  severely 
that  he  can't  go  back  to  the  Front.  It  all  makes 
me  perfectly  sick,  Billy  is  only  twenty-three  — 
the  most  boyish  and  appealing  person  you  can 
Imagine.  I  simply  cannot  realize  the  danger  he 
is  going  into.  Surely  it  is  incredible  that  such  a 
buoyant  personality  could  be  g^criflQed, 


PARIS  15 

Last  night  Uncle  J took  ns  over  to  "  The 

Gilded  Snail  "  for  dinner  and  we  ate  the  genuine 
article  with  a  gusto  which,  on  my  part  at  least, 
was  entirely  put  on.  The  prices  here  in  Paris 
are  fabulous  and  even  the  bare  necessities  of  life 
seem  like  an  extravagance.  However  the  city 
itself  never  has  been  so  fascinating.  To  a  great 
extent  it  has  lost  the  froth  of  other  days  and  the 
real  Paris  stands  out  as  never  before.  For  the 
first  time  I  see  why  it  has  been  called  the  heart 
of  this  wonderful,  indomitable  country.  But 
now  it  seems  to  represent  in  its  atmosphere  not 
only  the  heart  but  the  soul  of  France. 

Its  streets  are  no  less  gay ;  most  of  the  women 
are  in  black  to  be  sure  and  yet  soldiers  from 
every  Allied  country  in  the  world  are  now  to  be 
seen  everywhere  and  the  vivid  colors  of  their 
uniforms  brighten  up  the  boulevards  and  gleam 
among  the  trees  along  the  Champs  Elys^es  and  in 
the  Bois.  Naturally  the  blesses  are  everywhere 
and  on  every  side  one  sees  one-armed  and  one- 
legged  poilus,  leading  perhaps  some  camarade 
who  has  lost  his  sight.  O  there  is  much  of  the 
pathetic!  —  and  yet  somehow  the  extraordinary 
spirit  and  indomitable  will  of  these  people  is 
catching  and  one  holds  to  any  scrap  of  cheer  with 
the  greater  tenacity,  not  knowing  just  when  an- 
other bit  of  it  will  come  one's  way.  The  French 
have  learned  economy  in  the  war  —  even  to  th^ 
hoarding  of  sunshine. 

The  thing  that  helps  me  most  is  the  sight  of 


16  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

our  own  soldiers  in  Paris.  One  meets  them 
everywhere,  khaki-clad  groups  strolling  past  the 
marvelous  shops  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  with  a 
very  American  nonchalance,  or  piloting  some 
very  petite  and  chic  French  mademoiselles 
through  the  parks  or  into  one  of  the  many  res- 
taurants about  the  city. 

I  don't  think  I  should  have  had  the  face  to  come 
over  here  before  our  entry  into  the  war.  Those 
Americans  who  have  been  here  since  the  begin- 
ning say  that  the  situation  grew  very  strained 
during  the  winter  and  while  those  numerous 
notes  were  traveling  back  and  forth  between 
Washington  and  the  German  Government! 

Now,  of  course,  that  is  all  changed.  Americans 
can  at  least  hold  up  their  heads  and  France  with 
her  generous  heart  forgets  how  long  we  were  in 
coming  in  the  joy  of  at  last  welcoming  us  to  her 
shores.  Our  soldiers  are  being  made  much  of 
but  with  their  show  of  wealth  they  somewhat  be- 
wilder the  French  people.  Money  is  fairly 
thrown  about  by  the  advance  guard  of  our  A.  E. 
F.,  the  boys  having  no  idea  of  the  value  of  the 
francs  which  they  carry  in  huge  wads.  To  the 
poilu,  who  earns  eight  cents  a  day,  the  Sammie 
seems  a  veritable  millionaire. 

Our  American  army  headquarters  and  also 
the  chief  headquarters  of  the  American  Red  Cross 
are  at  the  H6tel  Crillon.  The  space  directly  in 
front  of  the  hotel  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde 
is  generally  swarming  with  our  soldiers.     Long 


PARIS  17 

rows  of  khaki-colored  military  automobiles  are 
drawn  up  along  the  curb.  These  are  the  first 
that  have  appeared  in  Paris  and  are  looked  upon 
with  great  interest  and  entire  approval  by  the 
French  population.  In  fact,  each  United  States 
transport  that  arrives  safely  is  reported  with 
columns  of  enthusiastic  comment  in  all  the  Paris 
papers.  They  only  urge  us  to  "  hurry  " ;  and 
God  grant  that  we  will. 

Paris,  July  18th,  1917. 

For  the  past  few  days  I  have  been  doing  light 
carpentering  at  the  Alcazar  in  the  Champs 
Elysees  (our  A.  F.  F.  W.  Headquarters  are  in 
the  building  which  once  was  the  Alcazar  d'Ete, 
a  great  amusement  hall).  As  most  of  our  men 
went  back  on  us  and  some  of  the  cases  had  to  be 
closed  at  once  for  shipment,  I've  been  hammering 
and  sawing  until  my  lily-white  hands  are  rough 
as  a  man's  and  a  perfect  sight! 

The  weather  has  come  off  very  warm  and  damp 
and  to-day  every  one  has  felt  more  or  less  like  a 
rag.  However  our  working  clothes  are  most  com- 
fortable —  little  Dutch  caps  to  keep  the  dust  out 
of  our  hair  and  blue  aprons  made  like  smocks. 
I  am  already  so  much  at  home  in  the  Alca- 
zar that  I  feel  as  though  I  had  been  bom 
here. 

If  this  is  to  catch  the  American  mail  I  must 
close.  I  have  such  heaps  to  tell  you  and  so  little 
time  that  it  is  quite  maddening. 


18  CANTEENING  OVEESEAS 

H6tel  Vernet,  Paris, 
July  22nd,  1917. 

The  last  week  has  been  so  fearfully  crowded 
that  I  haven't  been  able  to  accomplish  anything 
outside  of  my  work,  also  I  have  taken  on  another 
job. 

Here  at  the  Alcazar  we  work  until  5  p.  m.  and 
after  that  we  are  free  for  the  day.  I  was  begin- 
ning to  wonder  how  I  could  make  my  evenings 
more  useful  when  this  opening  came. 

Early  in  the  week  at  the  end  of  a  very  hot  and 
busy  day,  word  was  sent  that  they  needed  a  few 
American  girls  in  the  new  Y.  M.  C.  A.  canteen 
which  is  being  opened  for  the  Army  and  Navy 
at  31  Avenue  Montaigne.  The  request  was  ur- 
gent, and,  as  no  one  else  from  the  Alcazar  was 
free  to  go,  I  told  them  that  I'd  come  and  help  out, 
if  only  for  a  few  hours. 

When  I  arrived  I  found  that  they  were  very 
short-handed  indeed  and  would  be  grateful  for 
a  bit  of  help  every  day.  I  am  therefore  going  to 
the  canteen  from  5  to  9  P.  M.  each  evening  and 
of  course  simply  love  it.  In  the  first  place  I  have 
the  chance  to  work  with  our  own  soldiers, —  a 
thing  which  I  don't  get  in  the  A.  F.  F.  W. —  and 
then  it  fills  in  the  evenings,  and  I  don't  feel  such 
a  slacker. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Headquarters  are  situated  in 
a  stunning  old  building,  the  court-yard  of  which 
has  been  turned  into  a  sort  of  tea  garden.  A 
small  chalet  has  been  built  at  the  extreme  end 


PARIS  19 

and  this  serves  as  kitchen  and  pantry  in  one.  A 
huge  counter  extends  across  the  front  and  is 
covered  with  large  plates  of  sandwiches,  cakes, 
etc.  The  rest  of  the  court-yard  is  fenced  off  by 
greens  and  box,  leaving  a  big  space  for  numerous 
little  green  tables  and  chairs.  Here  the  hungry 
mob  congregates,  and  it  is  the  job  of  the  various 
girls  to  take  their  orders  and  serve  them  with  the 
good  things  that  are  concocted  in  the  little  chalet- 
canteen.  It  has  become  most  popular  owing  to 
the  fact  that  ice  cream,  cake  and  other  sweets 
are  now  practically  impossible  to  get  in  Paris. 
The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  gets  all  its  supplies  straight  from 
America  and  we  have  the  sugar  and  flour  neces- 
sary for  making  the  things  which  the  boys  love. 

Mrs.  Teddy  Roosevelt  and  Mrs.  Verley  are  run- 
ning the  place  and  in  the  past  two  days  a  girl 
that  I  knew  at  Farmington  has  turned  up  which 
makes  it  nice  for  me. 

Yesterday,  Aunt  T had  Madame  Migot 

and  her  son  Roger  to  luncheon  and  we  had  an  un- 
usually interesting  time.  You  know  her  older 
son,  Georges,  was  so  badly  wounded  during  the 
first  year  of  the  war  that  his  back  and  legs  are 
paralyzed  and  he  will  probably  never  walk  again. 
Instead  of  lying  around  and  bemoaming  his  fate 
he  is  doing  most  important  head  work  for  the  gov- 
ernment. The  younger  son,  Roger,  is  home  now 
en  permission  and  it  was  generous  of  his  mother 
to  share  with  us  even  an  hour  of  his  precious  eight 
days  at  home,    His  expression  shows  much  that 


20  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

he  has  been  through  and  his  life  at  the  Front 
must  be  a  veritable  Hell.  He  lives  by  himself  in 
what  is  left  of  a  tiny  hut  just  behind  the  firing 
line,  and  goes  out  day  and  night,  no  matter  what 
the  danger,  to  bring  in  the  wounded.  His  hut  is 
overrun  with  rats  as  big  as  kittens.  He  told  me 
that  the  only  company  he  has  are  three  or  four 
wild  canaries.  He  found  them  as  babies  in  their 
nest.  The  mother-bird  vanished,  so  he  took  them 
home  in  his  pocket  and  they  have  been  with  him 
ever  since.  They  sing  continually  and  when  he 
comes  back  at  night,  he  has  only  to  whistle  and 
they  come  to  him  flying,  the  well-trained  little 
things!  Naturally  when  there  is  fighting,  he  is 
in  the  trenches  all  day  and  then  his  rats  and  birds 
keep  house  by  themselves. 

Sometimes  at  night  he  takes  two  helpers,  and 
makes  pilgrimages  to  all  the  cemeteries  near  at 
hand  which  have  been  torn  up  and  mutilated  by 
the  Germans.  He  straightens  the  graves  and 
puts  up  rude  crosses  where  they  have  been  shot 
away.  In  this  way  he  has  found  the  graves  of 
many  of  his  friends,  whose  families  hadn't  known 
where  their  sons  were  buried.  Madame  Migot 
just  didn't  take  her  eyes  off  him  for  one  minute 
during  luncheon.  It  must  take  superhuman 
strength  and  courage  to  let  him  go  back  to  that 
ghastly  place. 

These  French  women  are  simply  marvelous. 
When  their  men  are  home  on  permission  they 
put  on  a  bold,  cheerful  front,  and  unless  one  looks 


PARIS  21 

at  their  eyes  one  would  never  know  the  cruci- 
fixion that  is  going  on  behind  that  calm,  sweet  ex- 
terior. When  I  see  the  pathetic  wrecks  that  limp 
back  from  those  trenches,  I  can  understand  a 
bit  why  some  of  these  young  girls  wear  the  look 
of  a  woman  of  fifty. 

It  seems  as  though  I  must  stretch  out  a  hand 
and  snatch  back  the  ones  I  love;  and  yet  our 
country  and  its  honor  never  seemed  half  so  pre- 
cious as  just  now,  or  half  so  worth  suffering  and 
dying  for. 

It  is  all  so  inspiring  and  so  tiring !  All  Ameri- 
cans have  the  same  experience  when  they  first 
come  over  and  before  they  get  a  bit  hardened  to 
it  all.  The  emotional  strain  is  terrific.  One  is 
keyed  to  concert  pitch  all  the  time  —  till  the 
mere  sight  of  our  khaki-clad  boys  marching 
through  Paris  on  their  way  to  camp,  brings  one  to 
the  verge  of  tears.  There  is  so  much  color  and 
experience  crammed  into  each  day  that  I  can't 
begin  to  writ€  of.  The  whole  situation  is  col- 
ossal; it  is  simply  impossible  to  express  it  in 
words.  My  letters  sound  childish  and  scrappy 
but  I  only  get  a  chance  to  write  a  sentence  or  two 
at  a  time,  so  you  must  excuse  them. 

I  haven't  presented  any  of  the  letters  of  intro- 
duction that  you  gave  me.  I  am  rushed  and  there 
isn't  a  soul  but  is  so  busy  that  even  friendly  calls 
have  had  to  be  abolished,  as  there  is  such  a  de- 
mand for  every  one's  time. 

M.  suggests  in  her  last  letter  that  I  read  Vic- 


22  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

tor  Hugo  and  get  myself  into  the  atmosphere  of 
Paris.  I  don't  suppose  any  one  realizes  at  home 
that  the  "  atmosphere  "  has  changed,  and  that 
what  Victor  Hugo  depicted  is  past  and  over. 
I  couldn't  any  more  settle  down  now  to  the 
reading  of  classics,  or  go  about  seeing  sights, 
than  I  could  fly.  One's  surroundings  cry  out 
against  that  sort  of  thing,  and  the  Great  Present 
looms  larger  than  all  the  rich  centuries  which 
make  the  Past  of  France. 

If  we  are  to  win  this  horrible  war,  every  man, 
woman  and  child  must  concentrate  on  the  Pres- 
ent and  only  stop  in  order  to  store  up  strength 
for  the  continuation  of  endeavor.  Now  that 
America  has  at  last  come  in,  this  country  and 
its  people  will  be  reorganized  into  a  stronger 
working  power  than  ever.  It  will  however  take, 
while  the  war  lasts,  every  ounce  of  strength, 
every  bit  of  brain  and  all  the  ingenuity  that  we 
have.  I  believe  that  France  is  entirely  alive  to 
this  fact  and  those  who  are  making  the  days 
count  do  nothing  outside  of  what  the  present  sit- 
uation demands  —  and  as  you  can  fancy  the  de- 
mand is  gigantic. 

One  of  my  Touraine  friends,  Dick,  has 
been  in  Paris  for  the  past  day  or  so  before 
starting  out  with  his  ambulance.  He  left 
here  this  morning  looking  splendidly  fit  and  hand- 
some in  his  uniform.  He  has  a  gentleness  about 
him  which  should  fit  him  for  his  job,  and  I  pray 
that  he  may  come  through  safely.     They  are  go- 


PARIS  23 

ing  into  the  worst  of  the  fighting  in  Flanders  and 
are  to  replace  a  section  that  has  been  completely 
shot  to  pieces.  Bill  Taller  writes  me  enthusias- 
tically from  the  French  Aviation  School  at 
Avord  where  he  is  learning  the  terrible  and  allur- 
ing game.     He  simply  adores  it. 

We  have  had  two  more  air  raids;  one  was 
pretty  bad,  but  somehow  one  gets  used  to  any- 
thing and  people  take  them  quite  calmly. 

I  am  kept  busy  hours  after  work  writing  to 
these  various  lads  at  the  Front  and  in  camps. 
It  is  extraordinary  how  much  letters  and  little 
packages  mean  "  out  there."  Of  course  it  is  the 
thought  that  some  one  nearer  than  home  is  think- 
ing of  them.  The  French  tell  me  that  the  morale 
of  the  entire  army  depends  on  just  such  little 
things. 

I  am  about  to  adopt  a  French  filleul  (godson) 
and  I  expect  he  will  be  the  first  of  many.  There 
are  so  pathetically  many  who  have  no  one  to  take 
a  bit  of  an  interest  in  them.  Some  of  the  women 
here  in  Paris  have  twenty  or  thirty  of  these 
filleuls  to  whom  they  write. 

This  morning  I  went  down  to  the  Gare  du 
Nord  with  Mrs.  Colby,  one  of  our  Alcazar  pack- 
ers, and  saw  the  French  soldiers  off  for  the 
Front.  The  Red  Cross  donates  cigarettes  and 
cigars  to  be  distributed  each  day,  and  then  dif- 
ferent girls  and  women  go  down  and  distribute 
them.  The  French  Red  Cross  gives  out  drinks 
and  sandwiches  too.     The  point  of  it  is  that  the 


24  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

men  are,  most  of  them,  very  sad  and  down- 
hearted. They  have  to  say  good-by  to  their  fam- 
ilies at  home,  and  the  half  hour  or  so  between  the 
time  they  leave  their  homes  and  the  time  the 
train  starts  is  very  hard  for  them.  So  we  all 
try  to  be  as  gay  as  possible  and  they  are  like 
children  in  their  quick  response.  I  have  never 
enjoyed  anything  more.  They  are  for  the  most 
part  entirely  respectful,  and  so  gallant  and 
pathetically  grateful.  They  adore  the  cigarettes, 
but  are  even  more  keen  over  the  tiny  American 
flags,  and  are  heartbroken  if  they  go  off  un- 
adorned. It  is  the  same  all  over  France ;  even  in 
the  trenches  they  are  mad  for  an  American  flag 
to  stick  on. 

Just  as  the  last  French  troop  train  had  pulled 
out,  in  came  a  whole  train  of  our  own  blessed 
men,  and  perhaps  we  weren't  glad  to  see  them. 
They  had  come  straight  up  from  the  Mexican 
border,  and  sailed  from  New  York  only  eight 
days  ago.  Of  course  they  were  all  pleased  to 
death  to  find  some  one  who  could  speak  English 
and  told  me  all  the  latest  news  and  much  about 
Edison's  extraordinary  new  gun  run  by  electric- 
ity. "  That  ought  to  finish  the  Germans,"  one 
of  them  said.  It  certainly  seems  as  though 
it  might,  and  how  France  will  exult  over  the 
news! 

These  men  had  a  pretty  close  call  getting  over, 
but  luck  seems  to  be  with  us,  and  they  told  me 
each  month  now  would  see  half  a  million  men 


PARIS  25 

from  the  U.  S.  in  France.  It  is  perfectly  glo- 
rious. 

As  you  see,  we  have  moved  over  from  the 
Lutetia  and  are  very  comfortably  settled  here. 
The  Hotel  Vemet  is  as  modem  as  any,  nice  and 
clean,  and  very  much  quieter  and  more  private 
than  the  Lutetia.  We  have  good  rooms  on  the 
court,  but  with  a  patch  of  sky  and  a  green  vine 
to  look  at.  Our  little  street  is  just  off  the 
Champs  ]Slys6es,  and  the  M6tro  takes  me  to  my 
work  in  fifteen  minutes,  so  it  is  most  con- 
venient. 

I  am  going  to  send  this  letter  along  without 
adding  more.  I  have  a  notion  the  censor  dis- 
likes fat  envelopes. 

H6tel  Vernet,  Paris,  August  11th,  1917. 

This  week  has  been  a  hummer  and  I  have 
scarcely  stopped  to  breathe,  not  one  moment  to 
write  a  word  in,  so  I  have  had  to  wait  until  now. 
It  is  Saturday,  and  we  therefore  get  a  half  holi- 
day. I  have  refused  to  go  anywhere  as  I  have 
dozens  of  letters  to  write  and  oceans  of  clothes 
to  mend,  not  to  mention  a  bit  of  a  rest  and  mak- 
ing the  most  of  a  hot  water  day. 

I  really  have  done  a  good  week's  work  at  the 
Alcazar  and  feel  like  Dad's  little  boy :  "  How 
pleasant  is  Saturday  night  when  you've  tried 
all  the  week  to  be  good."  At  any  rate,  I'm  feel- 
ing satisfied  as  I  think  of  all  the  hospital  supplies 
that  I  have  packed  and  shipped  off  to  the  Front. 


26  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

It  is  good  to  feel  that,  although  a  girl,  I  have  the 
chance  to  do  my  bit  where  it  is  needed. 

We  have  at  present  hundreds  of  cases  pouring 
in  all  the  time,  and  such  a  limited  supply  of 
workers  to  unpack  them.  There  are  two 
thousand  cases  in  the  Red  Cross  Clearing  House 
that  we  simply  can't  handle  for  the  moment,  our 
Alcazar  being  stocked  to  the  roof.  At  present  I 
am  a  Jack-of -all-trades  and  run  from  one  depart- 
ment to  the  other.  In  between  times  I  am  learn- 
ing the  very  complicated  system  of  shipping. 
However,  it's  fine  to  be  busy,  and  of  course  I 
enjoy  it  tremendously. 

Paris,  August  12th,  1917. 

I  am  writing  at  the  canteen  during  the  few 
moments  before  going  on  duty,  it  being  positively 
the  only  chance  I  have  had  in  days.  I'm  afraid 
this  will  be  rather  jerky  as  I  am  called  off  every 
few  minutes  to  cut  cake,  make  sandwiches,  etc. 
My  work  here  at  the  Y  goes  on  as  usual  in  the 
evenings,  except  on  Sundays  when  I  am  here  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  hours  too. 

Last  Sunday  night,  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  two  or 
three  of  the  other  girls  and  myself  went  up  to 
the  little  service  which  the  Y  has  for  the  soldiers 
each  week.  It  was  very  impressive.  So  many 
of  these  men  are  just  back  from  the  lines  for  a 
few  days,  or  on  their  way  up  to  the  Front,  and 
the  realization  of  how  uncertain  life  has  become 
for  them  makes  them  look  very  serious.     The 


PARIS  27 

place  is  always  packed  and  a  mass  of  khaki.  It 
seemed  so  strange  to  be  there,  singing  the  familiar 
hymns  w  hich  I  have  sung  ever  since  I  can  remem- 
ber. Particular  ones  I  always  associate  with 
the  peaceful  Sunday  nights  at  Farmington  — 
such  a  contrast  to  the  grim  atmosphere  that  sur- 
rounds all  such  gatherings  now.  It  stirs  one 
strangely. 

Paris,  August  14th,  1917. 

Yesterday  your  delightful  friends,  Monsieur 
and  Madame  Meslier,  called  and  asked  me  to  din- 
ner. It's  a  crowded  week  but  I  made  a  big 
effort  and  got  time  off,  as  I  remember  your  tell- 
ing me  that  these  people  are  characteristic  of  the 
very  best  French  types.  Paris  is  such  a  hash 
of  different  nationalities  that  I  long  for  a 
glimpse  of  the  real  thing.  Few  Americans  are 
getting  to  know  any  but  the  middle  and  lower 
classes  for  you  know  how  diflficult  it  is  to  be 
admitted  into  the  higher  circles,  especially  now 
that  these  good  people  are  smothered  in  war 
work. 

Naturally  I  had  a  beautiful  time.  I  was  scared 
stiff  on  account  of  my  French,  but  I  have  im- 
proved some  and  got  along  better  than  I  had  an- 
ticipated. The  Mesliers  have  a  beautiful  apart- 
ment on  the  Avenue  Montaigne,  very  French  and 
lovely  with  wonderful  pictures  and  rare  old  bric- 
a-brac  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  I  have  never 
seen  two  old  people  so  much  in  love  with  each 


28  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

other,  there  is  nothing  the  least  bit  slushy  about 
them  but  one  can't  help  seeing  that  each  worships 
the  ground  the  other  walks  on  and  such  exquisite 
courtesy  and  consideration  you  have  never  seen ! 
When  I  arrived,  Madame  Meslier  kissed  me  on 
both  cheeks  and,  if  I  had  been  the  daughter  of 
the  family,  I  couldn't  have  been  made  more  of. 
I  was  told  that  I  was  the  image  of  my  chere  mdre, 
which  naturally  made  a  great  hit  with  me. 

I  think  they  thought  that  I  represented  Amer- 
ica and  all  the  enthusiasm  and  gratefulness  which 
they  felt  for  my  country  was  showered  upon  me 
until  I  was  completely  abashed.  There  is  no 
doubt  but  that  the  French  think  that  we  have 
come  as  the  saviors  of  the  world,  and  no  words 
can  express  how  they  "  honor  us  for  risking  all 
perils  and  fighting  for  the  right  —  three  thousand 
miles  away  from  home."  The  Mesliers  are  both 
very  brilliant  mentally  and  were  keen  to  hear 
what  the  point  of  view  was  in  the  States.  I  told 
all  I  knew  which  wasn't  much,  but  they  were 
very  nice  and  listened  to  me. 

An  ancient  butler  served  us  at  table  and  I'm 
sure  he  must  have  been  in  the  family  for  several 
centuries  at  least!  At  any  rate  he  feels  called 
upon  at  times  to  use  a  bit  of  discipline,  and  talks 
right  up  to  Monsieur  and  Madame  which  they 
take  absolutely  as  a  matter  of  course !  The  food 
was  simply  marvelous  and  as  I  hadn't  seen  any- 
thing like  it  since  leaving  the  States  I'm  afraid  I 
ate  too  much,  but  really  couldn't  help  it,  every- 


PARIS  29 

thing  was  so  delicious.  After  dinner  numerous 
liqueurs  were  passed  around.  I  tried  two  dif- 
ferent kinds  and  they  were  bully  and,  I  guess, 
as  old  as  the  butler! 

Monsieur  and  Madame  brought  me  home  them- 
selves (as  they  didn't  think  my  Father  would 
want  me  entrusted  to  a  maid!)  and  embraced  me 
several  times  at  the  doorway  of  my  hotel,  much 
to  the  edification  of  the  concierge.  I  hope  they 
approved  of  me;  I  tried  to  be  very  proper  and 
wore  my  meekest  expression. 

I  have  two  French  filleuls  now,  one  I  picked  up 
the  other  night  when  we  were  seeing  the  soldiers 
off  at  the  Gare  du  Nord  and  the  other  was  willed 
to  me  by  a  girl  who  was  going  home  to  America. 
The  one  I  found  the  other  night  is  on  his  way  to 
Salonika,  has  a  fine  sensitive  face  and  looks 
thirty  although  he  is  only  twenty-three.  The 
other  boy  is  in  a  hospital  at  Toulouse  with  a 
wounded  leg.  These  lads  adore  letters  more  than 
anything  on  earth  and  every  once  in  a  while  I 
send  a  package  of  sausage,  tobacco  and  sweets. 
They  get  such  drab  things  to  eat  and  it  makes 
the  long  months  and  the  terrible  monotony  a  bit 
more  bearable.  There  were  a  whole  bunch  of 
un-marrained  (godmother-less)  men  at  the 
station  that  night,  and  we  each  took  a  godson. 

Paris,  August  22nd,  1917. 
This  afternoon  I  had  the  most  interesting  time. 
I  had  just  gotten  back  to  the  Alcazar  after 


30  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

luncheon,  when  one  of  the  girls  who  drives  our 
camions  of  supplies  about,  came  in  and  asked  for 
a  companion  to  go  out  with  her  to  the  Versailles 
hospitals  (they  don't  allow  the  drivers  to  go 
any  distance  out  of  Paris  alone).  Mrs.  Church- 
ill, the  head  of  our  packing  room,  volunteered 
to  let  me  go  and  of  course  I  jumped  at  the 
chance.  It  was  a  really  warm  day,  the  first  in 
weeks,  and  perhaps  I  wasn't  glad  to  get  a  sniff 
of  country  air.  The  trees  and  flowers  along  the 
way  were  ravishing.  I've  been  so  busy  during 
the  past  few  weeks  that  I  haven't  had  a  moment 
even  to  go  out  and  sit  under  a  tree  in  the  Bois, 
so  you  can  imagine  what  a  real  joy  it  was  to 
get  a  bit  of  country. 

We  left  supplies  at  three  different  hospitals, 
two  of  which  were  situated  in  convents.  The 
grounds  all  walled  in,  but  so  lovely  when  one 
got  inside.  Acres  of  land,  shady  vistas  and 
flowers  and  fruit  trees  everywhere.  The  blesses 
were  out  in  mobs  strolling  about  in  their  pyjamas, 
and  poor  one-armed  men  playing  ball  along  the 
paths. 

We  were  taken  all  about  by  the  sweet  nuns 
who  were  most  curious  over  our  Ford  camion 
and  speechless  with  astonishment  that  women 
should  actually  drive  such  a  thing.  The  entire 
street  turned  out  to  see  us  off.  It  was  very 
funny. 


PARIS  31 

Paris,  September  2nd,  1917. 

The  news  fi*om  Russia  tliis  morning  is  cer- 
tainly discouraging,  and  I  do  hope  that  the  shock 
of  seeing  Riga  actually  taken  may  put  some 
punch  into  the  Russian  soldiers.  Of  course  we 
all  expected  the  capture  but  it  is  a  shock  just  the 
same. 

If  I  wasn't  so  busy  all  the  time  the  war  news 
would  make  me  perfectly  sick.  Luckily  no  one 
has  time  to  stop  and  think.  I  can't  half  realize 
what  an  unusually  unique  time  I  am  having  and 
I  don't  suppose  I  shall  until  years  hence.  At 
any  rate  the  past  two  months  are  the  most  all- 
around  satisfactory  ones  I  have  ever  spent.  The 
work  in  connection  with  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  has 
brought  many  new  interests,  and  there  have  been 
a  score  of  tiny  happenings  which  have  made  me 
thankful  that  I  was  here  and  as  though  perhaps 
I  was  of  some  small  use. 

Paris,  September  8th,  1917 
Isn't  the  Russian  news  fierce?  I've  never  seen 
anything  like  the  way  it  has  taken  the  punch 
out  of  every  one.  I  was  down  at  the  Gare  du 
Nord  yesterday  doing  a  little  work  for  the  Red 
Cross,  distributing  cigarettes,  etc.,  among  the  out- 
going French  soldiers.  We  couldn't  seem  to 
cheer  them,  and  I  didn't  see  any  of  the  usual 
smiles.  The  ray  of  light  which  the  U.  S.  troops 
brought  when  they  began  coming  over  has,  for 
the  moment,  been  completely  obliterated.     The 


32  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

papers  don't  deny  that  it  is  the  worst  blow  the 
Allies  have  received  since  the  war  began,  and  it 
is  as  though  a  black  cloud  had  descended  upon 
every  one. 

I  am  getting  so  fierce  about  the  Germans  I 
could  fairly  commit  an  atrocity !  But  then  every 
one  feels  that  way,  when  he  sees  the  things  they 
have  done  here.  On  top  of  the  bad  news  one 
hears  that  the  storms  have  ruined  the  fruit,  and 
destroyed  the  wheat  crop,  and  the  poor  peasants 
are  terribly  down  over  the  prospect  of  a  winter 
with  no  coal  and  less  food  than  during  the  past. 

Lyons-la-F6ret,  Normandy, 
September  19th,  1917. 

I  haven't  written  for  the  past  ten  days  for  two 
reasons.  In  the  first  place  we  have  never  been 
so  busy,  and  in  the  second  place  the  war  news 
has  been  so  terrible  that  I  knew  I  couldn't  write 
anything  but  a  blue  letter.  So  it  seemed  better 
to  wait  until  I  had  something  cheerful  to  tell  you. 

Behold  us  at  present  off  on  a  bat,  and  in  the 

most  delicious  country  imaginable.     Aunt  T 

and  I  have  both  been  getting  a  bit  tired  and 
also  felt  that  we  must  get  a  glimpse  of  the  country 
before  the  summer  had  vanished.  At  the  Alca- 
zar, they  were  most  keen  for  me  to  take  a  little 
vacation  so  it  seemed  a  propitious  time  to  store 
up  a  bit  of  extra  energy  for  the  coming  winter. 
We  therefore  left  Paris  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, rode  on  the  train  about  an  hour  and  motored 


PARIS  33 

the  rest  of  the  way.  Such  a  country  as  it  is! 
The  dew  was  still  on  the  grass  when  we  reached 
the  little  station  and  everything  fresh  and  beau- 
tiful in  the  morning  light.  We're  on  the  east- 
ern edge  of  Normandy  and  here  the  war  hasn't  as 
yet  made  so  much  impression,  at  least  not  to  the 
outward  eye.  Of  course  one  sees  no  men  at  all 
except  Boche  prisoners  tilling  the  ground,  and 
somehow  one  doesn't  think  of  them  as  men ! 

The  country  looks  wonderfully  rich  and  well 
kept,  and  the  women  marvels  of  industry.  The 
storms  have  not  hit  this  comer  of  France  and  the 
crops  are  somewhat  protected  by  the  famous 
Lyons  Forest,  on  the  edge  of  which  our  little  town 
is  situated.  It's  a  quaint  spot,  with  narrow 
winding  streets,  and  rich  in  color  and  beauty. 
The  forest  itself  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  that 
I  have  ever  seen,  and  to  our  city-accustomed  eyes 
seems  a  veritable  paradise,  with  its  miles  of 
gigantic  trees,  the  moss-covered  ground  and  the 
winding  paths  through  the  green. 

These  peasants  are  most  interesting  and  I  am 
glad  to  get  a  glimpse  of  French  life  in  war  time 
from  this  angle.  I  notice  in  talking  with  the 
women  and  the  old,  old  men  that  if  anything  they 
are  fiercer  against  the  Boches  than  those  to  whom 
the  war  is  much  more  of  a  reality.  In  those  little 
villages  they  are  personally  safe,  and  quite  a 
distance  from  the  Front.  They  have  no  air  raids, 
and  except  for  the  absence  of  their  men  folk,  life 
continues  much  as  before.    But  if  one  thinks 


34  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

that  they  are  asleep  and  less  alive  to  the  outrages 
of  the  common  enemy  than  those  unfortunates 
who  live  close  to  the  lines,  then  one  doesn't  un- 
derstand the  immense  unity  that  has  made 
France  stand  as  one  man  during  three  years  of 
unspeakable  hell.  Any  hurt  or  insult  inflicted 
against  any  part  or  individual  of  this  land  is  felt 
and  taken  personally  by  the  country  as  a  whole. 

We  spend  most  of  our  time  jogging  about  in  a 
delightful  high  dog  cart.  An  old  peasant  woman, 
the  town  bakeress  and  the  owner  of  the  vehicle, 
drives  us,  and  generally  talks  the  whole  way, 
which  is  very  amusing.  She  told  us  that  her 
horse  was  one  that  was  captured  from  the  Ger- 
mans and  for  that  reason  she  bought  him  for  a 
bargain,  as  few  people  want  even  a  horse  that  is 
Boche ! 

Sometimes  we  take  along  a  couple  of  her  little 
grandchildren  of  whom  there  seems  a  limitless 
supply,  and  she  tells  us  how  hard  it  is  for  her 
young  but  very  weary  looking  daughter  to  bring 
up  this  large  family  alone  and  with  her  husband 
fighting  far  away  in  Salonika.  The  first  year  of 
the  war  this  young  wife  took  the  two  littlest  chil- 
dren and  made  the  perilous  crossing  to  spend  her 
husband's  short  leave  with  him.  She  must  have 
been  a  picturesque  figure  in  her  Normandy  cap 
and  costume  and  with  those  two  wee  children. 
The  very  first  time  she  had  ever  been  more  than 
a   few  kilometers  away   from   her  birthplace! 


PARIS  35 

How  this  war  has  stirred  the  civilized  world,  even 
to  its  farthest  sleepiest  nooks  and  corners! 

I  am  dropping  with  sleep  after  all  this  fresh 
air  so  must  stop  for  now  and  turn  in. 
I  wish  you  could  enjoy  the  view  out  of  my 
casement  window  to-night.  Quaint  pointed 
roofs  against  a  sky  powdered  with  stars,  shadows 
of  trees  heavy  with  apples  in  the  foreground,  and 
a  delicious  odor  of  flowers  and  dank  grass.  Per- 
fect stillness  except  from  time  to  time  the  far 
distant  boom  of  guns,  which  means  another  raid 
on  Paris.  But  here  peace  and  beauty  unutter- 
able. Would  to  God  one  could  say  as  much  of 
the  rest  of  this  poor  land. 

En  route  from  Lyons-la-F6ret  to  Paris, 
September  26th,  1917. 

It's  very  hard  to  leave  this  exquisite  country 
but  after  the  first  day  or  two  it  seemed  strange 
not  to  have  anything  to  do  and  I  don't  believe  I 
could  stand  it  for  very  long. 

Yesterday  we  visited  two  English  camps  in  the 
vicinity  of  Lyons,  the  first  composed  of  a  handful 
of  English  and  Canadian  officers  and  four  hun- 
dred and  eighty-five  prisoners  (Boches).  The 
English  keep  them  there  to  cut  timber  in  the 
forest  which  is  made  into  charcoal  and  shipped 
to  the  Front,  where  it  is  burned  for  warmth.  Its 
great  asset  is  that  it  doesn't  make  any  smoke. 
In  this  camp  they  turn  out  sixty  tons  a  day. 


36  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

The  Boches  live  in  splendid  looking  tents  and 
huts  in  a  large  fenced  off  area,  with  thick  barbed 
wire  all  around.  They  have  fine  food,  their  own 
German  cooks  to  cook  for  them,  a  canteen  where 
they  can  buy  all  they  need  and  are  paid  good 
wages  for  all  they  do.  This  is  characteristic 
treatment  of  all  Boche  prisoners  in  France  and, 
when  we  hear  of  the  cruelty  and  torture  used  by 
the  Germans  towards  Allied  prisoners,  it  makes 
me  so  mad  I  can't  see. 

The  second  camp  we  went  to  was  even  more 
interesting  as  it  was  made  up  entirely  of  Hindus, 
with  the  exception  of  the  English  officers,  who 
brought  them  over  from  India  and  who  have 
them  in  charge  here.  The  camp  is  situated  on 
the  edge  of  the  forest.  Flocks  of  mahogany 
stained  tents  everywhere,  with  their  picturesque, 
beturbaned  occupants.  You  can't  imagine  how 
strange  it  seemed  to  see  those  black  people  camp- 
ing in  the  quiet  Normandy  landscape,  and  as  one 
of  the  young  officers  told  us  how  they  had  left 
their  warmth  and  beloved  tropics  to  come  into  a 
strange  land,  I  found  a  respect  in  me  growing, 
not  only  for  these  weird  black  boys  —  but  for  the 
English  and  their  great  genius  in  colonization. 
When  you  realize  that  it  is  only  a  relatively  short 
time  since  the  general  mutiny  in  the  very  part 
of  India  from  where  these  men  came,  it  is  indeed 
wonderful  that  1914  should  see  the  Hindus  volun- 
teering their  services,  undertaking  the  long  voy- 
age, being  attacked  by  submarine  and  finally 


PAEIS  37 

setting  up  their  picturesque  camp  in  the  cold  and 
distant  country  of  an  alien  race.  All  this  of 
their  own  free  will,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  once 
despised  English  master ! 

Surely  if  England  has  become  the  great  and 
powerful  nation  that  she  is  to-day,  there  must  be 
some  fine,  human  influence  behind  it.  Her  col- 
onies have  come  to  her  rescue  en  masse  and  many 
of  them  have  not  waited  to  be  drafted.  As  I  saw 
the  friendly  relationship  —  the  human  bond  — 
between  these  husky  Indian  lads  and  their  Anglo- 
Saxon  oflftcers,  I  felt  that  the  reason  why  Eng- 
land is  the  biggest  colonizing  nation  and  the  most 
successful  is  because  she  has  made  herself  stand 
in  her  far  off  possessions  for  equity,  ethics,  and  a 
fair  standard  of  morals.  Those  are  things  even 
half  breeds  can  comprehend,  and  they  have  an- 
swered the  call  and  come  to  do  their  bit,  for  a 
country  and  a  master  whom  they  have  learned  to 
trust! 

What  a  contrast  to  the  German  colonies  in 
Africa,  who  flatly  refused  to  lift  a  finger  for  the 
sake  of  that  "Vaterland"  and  "Kultur"  of 
which  we  hear  so  much ! 

Paris,  October  1st,  1917. 
The  A.  F.  F.  W.  has  at  last  been  absorbed  by 
the  Red  Cross  and  as  this  will  bring  many 
changes  in  its  wake,  I  don't  believe  I  shall  be 
needed  much  longer.  For  a  long  while  the  Y. 
M.  C.  A.  people  have  been  trying  to  persuade  me 


38  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

to  go  over  to  them  as  a  full-time  worker  and  as 
the  Alcazar  is  being  entirely  reorganized  and  all 
the  packing  will  probably  be  done  outside  of 
Paris,  it  seems  an  auspicious  time  to  make  the 
change. 

You  ask  if  my  French  is  improving.  I  think 
it  is  a  bit,  although  it's  so  hard  to  get  any  chance 
to  talk.  The  entire  French  people  are  keen 
to  practice  their  English  on  you :  the  shopkeepers 
simply  refuse  to  converse  in  French. 

Paris,  October  9th,  1917. 

We  have  moved  our  canteen  indoors  now,  the 
winter  rains  having  already  set  in  and  are  es- 
tablished inside  the  beautiful  Y  Headquarter^ 
building,  which  in  former  days  was  the  home  of 
one  of  the  Napoleons.  There  is  a  huge  kitchen 
lined  with  gorgeous  metal  pots  and  pans  in  which 
we  cook  our  wares  and  a  fine  big  room  for  the 
canteen  itself.  It  is  of  course  much  warmer  and 
cozier  and  the  boys  flock  in  even  larger  numbers 
than  when  we  were  outside.  I  think  I  told  you 
that  all  the  canteen  girls  wear  cherry  colored 
aprons  and  white  caps  with  black  velvet  stream- 
ers. It  gives  a  splash  of  color  to  the  room  and 
the  boys  love  anything  that  suggests  a  feminine 
touch. 

When  I  go  into  the  Y.  M.  C  A.  entirely,  I  shall 
have  to  blossom  forth  in  ai  regular  uniform. 
They  are  very  good  looking,  perfectly  plain  gray 
suits  with  Alice-blue  collar  and  the  red  triangle 


PAKIS  39 

on  the  sleeve,  small  blue  waterproof  hats  with 
the  triangle  on  the  front  of  the  crown  and 
heavy  army  cape  to  go  over  it  all,  with  "  U.  S." 
on  the  collar. 

Paris,  October  17'th,  1917. 

The  week  has  sped  by  and  I  haven't  had  a 
moment,  and  to  add  to  this  we  have  been  having 
a  few  days  of  splendid  crisp,  sunny  weather  and 
it  has  spurred  me  on  to  work  my  hardest.  Also, 
it  seems  as  though  during  the  past  week  every 
man  I  know  has  turned  up  in  Paris  and  all  of 
the  crowd  who  have  been  here  right  along,  having 
received  their  commissions,  are  leaving  for  parts 
unknown  at  once.  This  has  necessitated  many 
farewell  parties  of  course  and  I  have  had  a 
great  time  wedging  them  in  after  work. 

It  gives  me  a  strange  feeling  —  this  saying 
good-by,  over  here,  and  if  I  were  to  allow  my- 
self to  think  about  the  danger  and  the  uncer- 
tainty of  ever  seeing  any  of  these  lads  again,  I 
think  I'd  have  neiwous  prostration.  Here  are 
four  of  my  best  friends  leaving  for  the  Front 
within  the  next  few  days,  two  in  aviation  and 
two  in  artillery,  and  yet  one  is  as  matter-of- 
fact  about  it  as  though  they  were  off  to  a  Sunday 
school  picnic ! 

Billy  Tailer  has  at  last  finished  his  perilous 
training  for  the  Lafayette  Escadrille  and  looks 
too  adorable  for  words  in  his  sky-blue  uniform 
with  silver  wings.     Believe  me,  aviation  is  no 


40  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

joke  and  his  face  is  pathetically  worn  and  wan 
from  his  three  months  in  the  air.  They  never 
know  when  they  are  going  to  fly  and  therefore 
eat  at  any  old  time  and  any  old  thing.  When 
they  are  training  they  generally  have  to  fly  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  sometimes  keep 
it  up  until  eleven  on  a  perfectly  empty  tummy. 

The  weather  is  decidedly  cool  and  as 
the  Government  won't  allow  any  heat  turned 
on  until  the  thermometer  drops  to  ten  degrees 
for  three  days  in  succession,  there  are  times 
when  we  think  we  shall  never  be  warm  again. 

So  many  sugar  ships  have  been  sunk  that  we 
are  going  to  be  cut  out  of  sugar  entirely  for  the 
month  of  December.  It  will  seem  a  bit  strange 
and  not  too  pleasant  as  I  have  never  craved 
sweet  things  so  much  as  since  coming  over  here. 
We  are  so  cut  down  in  that  way  that  every  one 
clamors  for  candy  and  cakes,  even  those  who 
despised  them  heretofore. 

Paris,  October  19th,  1917. 
I  wish  you  could  see  this  wonderful  city  to- 
night. We  have  just  driven  up  the  Champs 
filys^es  after  having  "  tea-ed "  downtown.  As 
we  crossed  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  the  sky 
was  a  delicate  apricot  melting  into  blue,  a  won- 
derful background  for  the  outline  of  the  Eiffel 
Tower  and  the  bold  black  silhouette  of  the 
obelisk.  A  fragile  new  moon  hung  suspended 
close    to    the    horizon  —  with    Venus    showinsr 


PAEIS  41 

bright  and  clear,  nearer  to  the  moon  to-night 
than  at  any  other  time  during  the  year  (so  the 
papers  said  this  morning) . 

Paris  certainly  grows  on  one  and  I  never  get 
tired  of  looking  up  the  most  beautiful  street  in 
the  world  with  the  strong  lines  of  the  Arc  de 
Triomphe  looming  up  in  the  distance.  Just  now 
the  trees  on  each  side  have  turned  yellow  and 
in  the  morning  with  the  sun  shining  they  look 
like  burnished  gold. 

Last  night  some  of  the  Y  canteen  workers 
were  asked  to  go  down  to  the  H6tel  Pavillion, 
which  is  the  first  to  be  taken  over  and  run  under 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  management  for  the  American  sol- 
diers in  Paris.  A  party  was  being  given  for 
every  one  in  the  hotel  and  any  one  else  who 
wanted  to  come.  When  we  walked  in,  there  was  a 
variety  show  going  on  with  various  professional 
stunts,  magician,  etc.  I  have  never  seen  so  many 
branches  of  our  service  represented  as  in  that 
audience  or  so  many  pairs  of  eyes.  American 
girls  are  not  a  common  sight  over  here  and  after- 
wards when  the  dancing  started  we  were  fairly 
mobbed!  I'm  sure  every  one  had  a  bully  time. 
These  parties  are  going  to  be  frequent  affairs 
from  now  on,  I  understand. 

Paris,  October  23rd,  1917. 
I  have  joined  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  entirely  now  and 
it  is  already  proving  a  great  satisfaction.     It's 
so  wonderful  working  for  our  own  boys   and 


42  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

feeling  that  I  am  giving  all  my  strength  and 
energy  towards  that  end.  I  have  moved  into  a 
uniform,  for  which  in  many  ways  I  am  thankful. 
It  simplifies  the  matter  of  dress  and  here  in 
Palis  it  gives  you  a  more  dignified  position  if 
you  are  wearing  a  uniform  of  the  organization 
of  which  you  are  definitely  a  part. 

Personally,  of  course,  the  canteen  work  is 
tremendously  appealing  to  me  and  perhaps  in 
the  early  spring  I  shall  go  out  into  the  "  Field  " 
(meaning  one  of  the  huts  anywhere  out  of  Paris) . 
I've  had  one  chance  already  but  the  plan  wasn't 
really  practical.  In  the  meantime  my  job  here 
offers  ever  increasing  openings  for  help  and  work 
and  I  am  wonderfully  happy  in  the  anticipa- 
tion of  such  a  busy,  useful  winter. 

I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  John  the  past  few 
days,  and  he  is  becoming  quite  a  habitue  of  the 
canteen.  He  has  left  the  Ambulance  service,  it 
having  been  taken  over  by  the  army,  and  is  now 
keen  to  join  some  other  and  more  active  part  of 
the  service.  He  was  however  meekly  getting 
ready  to  go  home,  as  he  had  a  cable  from  his 
family  telling  him  to  take  his  choice  of  the  Ambu- 
lance or  Medical  Unit  work.  As  he  didn't  favor 
either  of  these  suggestions,  he  was  going  home  to 
talk  to  his  family  and  try  to  persuade  them  to 
let  him  go  to  an  officers'  training  school  in  Amer- 
ica. We  know  his  family,  and  you  can  imagine 
how  much  chance  he  would  have  had !  I  ex- 
pressed my  views  rather  strongly  concerning  a 


PARIS  43 

man's  duty  when  his  country  was  at  war.  I 
simply  couldn't  help  saying  what  I  did.  Also  it 
is  most  important  for  those  of  our  men  who  are 
over  to  stick  and  enlist  here,  the  problem  of 
transportation  being  so  stupendous.  John  has 
been  crazy  to  go  into  the  Artillery  with  all  his 
friends,  and  to-day  he  came  and  told  me  he  had 
decided  to  do  it,  family  or  no  family.  I  almost 
embraced  him  on  the  spot!  I  hope  I  didn't  in- 
fluence him  unduly  for  it's  a  big  responsibility, 
but  I  haven't  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  he  will  be 
thankful  all  his  life,  if  he  comes  through,  that  he 
didn't  trot  home  to  Mother,  like  a  slacker.  One 
can't  live  so  near  the  Front  without  turning  into 
a  rabid  recruiting  agent ! 

This  week  has  beaten  all  preceding  ones  for 
work.  Our  canteen,  has  been  jammed  to  the 
doors,  and  so  much  to  do.  We  cannot  seem  to 
prepare  enough  food  for  these  famishing  hordes, 
and  are  eaten  out  of  house  and  home  every  day 
no  matter  how  much  we  have  on  hand.  I  liter- 
ally don't  sit  down  once  from  two  until  nine,  and 
my  hands  are  a  perfect  sight  and  feel  like  sand- 
paper from  dish  water,  etc.  However,  I  seem  to 
thrive  on  it  all  and  it  is  wonderful  to  be  busy. 

Paris,  November  15th,  1917. 

You  may  be  surprised  to  hear  that  I  am  not 

going  to  wait  until  the  spring  to  go  out  into  the 

"  Field  "  but  am  going  now.     You  see,  I  heard  in 

an  indirect  way  that  the  Y  was  put  to  it  to  find 


44  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

women  for  the  huts  they  are  erecting  in  the  var- 
ious camps,  as  so  many  people  wanted  to  stay  in 
Paris  for  the  winter,  there  being  more  coal  here, 
etc.  Secretly,  I  have  been  dying  to  go  out  into 
the  Field  before  this  and  would  have  gone  before 
now  if  it  hadn't  been  that  every  one  threw  cold 
water  on  my  little  scheme  and  insisted  that  the 
Y  would  never  consider  sending  a  lady  of  twenty- 
two  summers  into  an  army  camp.  So  I  sat  on 
my  ambitions  and  decided  I  must  be  patient  and 
count  my  mercies,  which  were  certainly  many. 
Then  I  heard  these  rumors  about  a  shortage  of 
women  in  the  field  and,  taking  my  courage  firmly 
in  both  hands,  I  pranced  into  the  office  of  our 
head  boss  and  offered  my  services.  She  looked 
me  over  for  several  of  the  longest  moments  I  have 
ever  known  and  then  asked  me  if  I  knew  of  what 
field  work  consisted  and  if  I  had  considered  the 
hardships  thereof !  I  said  I  was  crazy  to  make  a 
stab  at  it  and  thought  I  could  stand  the  hard- 
ships. She  then  remarked  that  I  looked  young 
but  I  told  her  that  I  was  very  old  in  experience, 
at  which  she  looked  amused,  thereby  infuriating 
me.  Why  is  it  one  is  always  so  proud  of  what 
one  thinks  is  worldly  experience?  At  any  rate, 
she  put  my  name  down  and  said  in  a  few  days  I 
should  know  my  fate  and  she  did  look  as  though 
I  might  do,  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  I  beamed  all 
over  my  face  and  was  strongly  tempted  to  kiss 
her,  which  wouldn't  have  done  at  all.     However, 


PARIS  45 

I  controlled  myself  and  made  what  I  hope  was 
a  very  dignified  exit. 

Last  night  the  Canteen  gave  a  party  for  the 
survivors  of  the  "  Alcedo."  You  remember  it 
was  torpedoed  and  went  down  about  ten  days 
ago.  We  tried  to  cheer  them  with  music,  a  little 
dancing  and  lots  of  good  food  and  after  a  while 
some  of  them  lost  their  strained  expression  and 
really  seemed  to  enjoy  themselves.  At  any  rate, 
they  all  chanted  the  same  refrain :  "  Gee,  it  cer- 
tainly is  swell  to  see  a  girl  that  talks  American 
and  not  English."  Most  of  them  wanted  to  talk 
about  their  experiences  and  such  gruesome  and 
horrible  tales  you  never  heard.  They  had  been 
on  the  boat  that  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  "  An- 
tilles "  and  the  "  Finland  "  and  during  their  short 
career  over  on  this  side,  before  they  were  hit 
themselves,  they  had  picked  up  some  three  hun- 
dred Americans  floating  about. 

When  their  own  horrible  adventure  came,  they 
had  exactly  four  minutes  from  the  time  the  tor- 
pedo struck  until  the  "  Alcedo  "  disappeared  un- 
der the  water.  Most  of  them  saw  the  U  Boat 
plainly  and  spoke  with  the  Germans  in  the  con- 
ning tower,  who  asked  the  tonnage  and  size  of  the 
boat  they  had  sunk.  Our  boys  lied  valiantly,  giv- 
ing wrong  figures,  which  they  said  saved  their 
lives  as  the  Boches  put  them  down  as  a  merchant 
vessel  and  so  failed  to  shoot  them  in  their  life 
boats,  in  the  usual  way.     The  torpedo  struck 


46  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

right  where  some  of  the  boys  were  sleeping  and 
they  never  woke  again.  Twenty-one  went  down 
on  the  boat. 

Paris,  November  17th,  1917. 

This  morning  I  received  my  marching  orders 
and  I  am  that  thrilled  and  excited  I  can  scarcely 
contain  myself.  Where  do  you  suppose  they  are 
sending  me?  To  the  port  where  I  landed.  I 
guess  you  will  know  where  that  is  without  my 
mentioning  any  names.  It  is  to  be  one  of  the 
largest  encampments  in  France  and  the  Y.  M.  C. 
A.  is  building  eight  huts  in  and  about  the  town, 
so  you  can  see  how  much  work  there  is  to  be 
done.  Of  course  I  should  have  preferred  in  a 
way  to  get  a  bit  nearer  the  fighting  line  but  I  do 
feel  that  for  the  winter  months  it's  going  to  be 
quite  ideal  and  probably  in  the  Spring  we  shall 
have  our  chance  to  go  out  and  rough  it  if  we 
want  to. 

There  are  thousands  of  our  men  to  do  for  down 
there  and  more  coming  all  the  time.  It's  also  the 
port  where  most  of  the  mammoth  supplies  for  our 
army  come  in,  and,  taken  all  in  all,  I  know  it's 
going  to  be  interesting  beyond  words.  I  am  sure 
you  will  approve  and  feel  that  I  have  done  right 
in  grasping  this  wonderful  opportunity.  It  cer- 
tainly isn't  a  time  to  sit  back. 

To-morrow  I  finish  up  at  the  Canteen,  then 
have  three  days  in  which  to  pack  and  get  ready. 
Thursday  will  see  me  on  my  way  rejoicing  al- 


PARIS  47 

though  sorry  to  leave  my  little  canteen  here  and 
all  the  people  who  have  been  so  kind.  The  sound 
of  Bordeaux  grows  more  and  more  attractive 
and  my  enthusiasm  is  growing  in  proportion.  It 
is  wonderful  to  be  told  how  much  you  are  needed. 
To-night  I  could  fairly  purr  with  contentment. 


CHAPTER  III 

BORDEAUX 

En  Route  from  Paris  for  Bordeaux, 
November  21st,  1917. 

I  am  in  a  compartment  otherwise  completely 
filled  with  French  officers,  and  maintaining  a 
most  dignified  bearing  in  my  little  comer.  Most 
of  them  have  offered  me  the  morning  paper,  maga- 
zines, chocolates  and  cigarettes  with  all  the  man- 
ner in  the  world,  but  I  thought  it  wiser  to  refuse ! 

You  should  have  seen  me  yesterday  winding  up 
my  affairs  at  the  bank  and  at  the  hotel,  and  this 
morning  leaving,  with  my  little  trunk  and  suit 
case  piled  on  the  front  of  a  taxi  and  the  entire 
staff  of  the  servants  at  the  "  Vernet "  to  see  me 
off.  I  did  feel  pretty  old  and  independent  and  so 
important  traveling  en  miUtaire.  Incidentally 
that  got  me  a  reduction  on  my  ticket  to  Bor- 
deaux, a  little  matter  of  thirty-five  francs  reduc- 
tion. So  you  see,  in  more  ways  than  one,  it  pays 
to  be  a  soldier. 

It  has  been  a  wonderful  trip  so  far,  the  country 
lovely  in  spite  of  sheets  of  rain  and  no  leaves  on 
the  trees.  The  darkness  is  falling  now  and  one 
gets  glimpses,  as  the  train  rushes  past,  of  long 
sweeps    of   meadowland,    with    everywhere   the 

48 


BORDEAUX  49 

stately  poplars,  "  exclamation  points "  of  gray 
against  a  leaden  sky.  I  can  hardly  wait  to  get 
there  and  see  where  I'm  going  to  be  put.  I  can't 
get  over  the  feeling  of  exhilaration  at  the  thought 
of  finding  a  real  niche  in  this  huge  machine  of  war. 

Bordeaux,  November  21st,  1917. 
Well  you  see  we  arrived  safely,  although  in  a 
tempest  of  rain.  The  station  was  jammed  with 
soldiers  of  all  nationalities  and  I  had  quite  a 
time  collaring  a  porter,  finding  my  trunks  and 
hustling  myself  and  baggage  into  a  cab.  The 
H6tel  de  France,  for  which  I  made  tracks,  was 
full  to  overflowing,  but  luckily  the  proprietor  re- 
membered me  and  gave  me  a  magnificent  apart- 
ment, which  looked  very  large  and  barn-like.  I 
could  hardly  see  the  ceiling,  and  the  furniture, 
although  enormous,  looked  sort  of  lost  in  the  vast 
area.  I  caught  sight  of  myself  in  a  huge  mirror 
and  positively  I  looked  about  the  size  of  a  fly. 
At  any  rate,  I  had  a  bully  dinner  and  was  soon 
afterwards  sound  asleep  in  my  high  bedstead. 

Miss  M and  P have  been  too  kind  for 

words ;  showered  me  with  attentions  and  delight- 
ful books,  so  I  have  been  quite  the  spoiled  baby. 

Bordeaux,  November  27th,  1917. 

Well,  my  first  day's  work  at  Bordeaux  has  been 

most  satisfactory  and  how  good  it  seems  to  be 

back  in  harness  again.     The  Y  has  taken  over 

a  huge  building  facing  on  the  central  Place  aud 


50  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  letters  painted  on  the  front  can 
be  seen  many  blocks  away.  The  work  here  is 
very  similar  to  that  in  Paris,  only  on  a  much 
larger  scale.  We  serve  the  men  with  tea,  coffee, 
cakes,  ice  cream,  etc.,  and  in  between  times  go  in 
and  talk  and  sing  with  them  or  play  games.  This 
is  the  nucleus  for  all  the  surrounding  camps  and 
is  packed  with  men  on  a  few  hours'  leave.  There 
are  engineers,  aviators,  regulars,  middies,  and 
every  other  kind  of  U.  S.  soldiers  and  sailors  you 
can  imagine.  I  am  hoping  they  will  send  me  out 
to  one  of  the  huts  in  an  outside  camp.  It  would 
be  intensely  interesting  to  be  close  to  a  real  en- 
campiiient,  and  see  the  colossal  things  they  are 
doing.  Our  engineers  are  remaking  France. 
The  French  people  stand  about  watching  with 
their  mouths  wide  open. 

To-morrow  is  Thanksgiving.  It  seems  strange 
with  you  all  so  far  away.  We  shall  be  very  busy 
as  we  are  having  a  party  for  all  the  boys. 

Bordeaux,  November  28th,  1917. 
(Thanksgiving  Day.) 
We've  had  a  full  day  —  a  little  service  at  8 :30 
this  morning  and  I  have  just  this  moment  come 
in  from  the  Canteen  and  it  is  after  eleven  p.  m. 
We  went  out  to  the  dedication  of  one  of  the  large 
huts  in  the  Marine  Camp  and  it  was  marvelous 
and  inspiring.  I  am  hoping  that  they  are  going 
to  send  one  of  the  older  women  and  me  out  to  run 
the  Canteen  there.    The  country  is  heavenly  and 


BORDEAUX  51 

the  work  engrossing  and  inspiring.  To-night  we 
had  a  big  party  at  the  Y  Headquarters  here.  The 
boys  had  a  royal  time. 

I  must  to  bed  now.  God  bless  and  keep  you 
always. 

Base  2,  U.  S.  A.  P.  O.  705,  Lormont, 

December  15th,  1917. 

I  think  I  wrote  you  that  I  was  hoping  to  be 
assigned  to  the  Marine  Camp,  and  here  I  am  for 
a  little  while  at  least.  Miss  M ,  a  very  agree- 
able older  woman,  two  Y  men,  and  I  have  charge 
of  the  big  new  hut  which  has  been  built  for  the  use 
of  the  5th  and  6th  Marines.  This  is  my  first  ex- 
perience with  this  branch  of  the  service  and  I 
must  admit  that  I  am  tremendously  impressed. 
They  have  to  stand  a  lot  of  guying  just  now  as 
there  are  rumors  that  parts  of  the  1st  Division 
have  already  gone  into  the  lines  in  a  French  sec- 
tor. The  marine  motto  has  always  been  "  First 
in  the  Fight"  and  it  galls  them  terribly  to  be 
held  back.  There  is  a  big  contingent  of  them  in 
Bordeaux  on  M.  P.  (Military  Police)  duty;  an- 
other cause  for  jeers  from  the  other  branches  of 
the  service !  I  heard  an  old  regular  infantry  man 
the  other  day  call  out  to  a  marine :  "  You're  good 
for  nothin'  but  the  police  force,  that's  why  Per- 
shing keeps  you  out  of  the  trenches." 

Of  course  a  violent  row  ensued  in  which  I'm 
glad  to  say  the  marine  carried  off  the  laurels. 
Later,  when  he  came  into  the  canteen,  I  asked 


52  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

him  about  it  and  he  said :  "  Girlie,  we're  just 
biding  our  time  and  ain't  sayin'  much  but  if  they 
ever  let  us  up  to  those  trenches,  we'll  show  them 
that  there  ain't  a  speck  of  yellow  in  the  whole 
Marine  Corps!  "  They're  a  fine  looking  bunch, 
well  set  up  and  always  spotlessly  clean.  I  thor- 
oughly enjoy  working  for  them  and  have  grown 
very  fond  of  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  boys  already. 

Our  hut  is  made  in  the  usual  way;  half  of  the 
rough  hall  is  used  for  reading  and  writing  and 
the  other  for  entertainments,  with  a  diminutive 
stage  built  at  the  end.  The  canteen  runs  the 
entire  length  of  one  end  of  the  building  and  looks 
very  much  like  a  grocery  store  with  its  broad 
counter  and  wares  stacked  in  exhibition  piles  at 
the  back.  The  canteen  is  my  domain  and  the 
place  where  I  spend  practically  all  my  waking 
hours.  The  electricity  hasn't  been  put  in  as  yet 
so  we  use  lamps  of  acetylene  gas  which  help  to 
light  things  up  at  night  but  which  are  a  bit  over- 
powering at  times,  the  smell  being  pretty  bad. 

Just  now  the  weather  is  bitter  cold  and,  being 
so  near  the  river,  there  are  dense  fogs  at  night 
which  creep  up  between  the  cracks  of  our  roughly 
built  floor  and  somehow  seem  to  get  into  my  very 
bones.  When  I  have  been  on  duty  for  three  or 
four  hours,  I  lose  all  feeling  from  the  waist  down. 
It's  very  difficult  to  thaw  out  as  our  billet  is  like 
a  refrigerator  and  in  the  wing  of  an  old  chateau 
that  hasn't  been  opened  for  three  years.  At 
night,  when  I  go  to  bed,  I  pile  everything  I  own 


BORDEAUX  53 

in  the  line  of  clothing  on  top  of  me  and  clutch 
my  hot  water  ba^,  "  old  faithful,"  firmly,  wishing 
that  I  had  about  a  dozen  just  like  it.  However, 
it  doesn't  keep  its  warmth  very  long.  I  heat  the 
water  on  my  wee  alcohol  lamp  and  then  slip  the 
bag  between  the  icy  sheets.  The  other  night,  I 
was  about  ten  minutes  in  getting  to  bed  and  it 
didn't  take  more  than  that  for  the  heat  to  dis- 
appear entirely,  and,  in  twenty  minutes,  the  bag 
was  like  ice. 

The  mud  in  camp  is  ankle-deep  and  cakes  about 
one's  shoes  an  inch  thick,  forming  a  freezing  mold 
or  jacket  for  each  foot! 

We  eat  our  meals  in  the  little  room  back  of  the 
canteen,  with  the  two  soldier  details  that  help  us 
in  our  work.  The  food  is  regular  army  stuff  and 
is  brought  across  from  the  big  mess  kitchen  in  a 
tin  pail.  As  it  is  quite  a  distance  and  the 
weather  fearfully  cold,  our  "slum"  (stew)  and 
coffee  are  generally  only  luke  warm  by  the  time 
they  arrive.  However,  of  course  nobody  kicks 
and  I  am  so  intensely  grateful  to  be  here  that  I 
would  put  up  with  much  worse  conditions  for  the 
sake  of  being  just  where  I  am. 

The  boys  are  a  wonderful  lot.  They  train  from 
sunrise  to  sunset  in  this  horrible  mud,  but  night 
sees  them  piling  into  the  hut  by  the  hundreds. 
There  are  always  groups  of  intense,  eager  faces 
to  be  seen  around  the  dozen  or  so  stoves  discuss- 
ing anything  and  everything.  A  lot  of  them 
crowd  about  the  long  tables  writing  letters  home 


54  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

and  playing  games,  and  a  few  are  always  hanging 
over  the  counter  laughing  and  talking.  It  is 
pathetic  how  eager  they  are  for  a  word  with  some 
woman  who  speaks  their  own  lingo  and  I  wish 
the  day  were  three  times  as  long  and  I  had  a 
dozen  pairs  of  hands.  You  can't  conceive  how 
busy  we  are  and  how  much,  much  remains  undone 
in  spite  of  it. 

Of  course  I  don't  know  much  about  soldiers  as 
yet  but  I  can't  help  but  feel  that  the  marines  must 
be  above  the  average.  I  can  scarcely  wait  for 
them  to  get  their  chance  in  the  trenches.  I'm 
sure  they  will  show  up  splendidly. 

Bordeaux,  December  24th,  1917. 
My  joy  was  short-lived  because  here  I  am  back 
at  Headquarters  in  Bordeaux.  They  had  to  send 
the  girl  who  was  here  to  a  place  where  there  was 
a  big  new  hut  and  no  one  to  run  it,  and  as  they 
were  swamped  vsdth  men  here  on  leave,  they  sent 
a  hurry  call  out  to  Lormont  and  so  I  am  back  on 
my  old  job  and  working  from  nine  a.  m.  to  eleven 
P.  M.  At  last  I  know  the  meaning  of  that  phrase 
"the  Christmas  rush."  I  was  disappointed  to 
leave  my  marines,  of  course,  but  I  can't  help  feel- 
ing that  I  am  needed  here  and  we  hope  to  make 
this  first  Christmas  away  from  home  as  easy  for 
these  poor  lads  as  possible.  Mrs.  Astor  and  Miss 
Harriman  are  opening  up  their  big  new  restau- 
rant on  the  ground  floor  to-morrow  and  there  is 
to  be  a  Christmas  tree  with  presents  for  every  one. 


BORDEAUX  55 

The  most  wonderful  thing  happened  yesterday. 
Aunt  T.  and  Uncle  J.  suddenly  appeared  out  of  a 
clear  sky  to  spend  Christmas  with  me.  I  have 
never  been  so  surprised  or  pleased,  and  laughed 
and  cried  all  in  one  moment.  Such  hugging  and 
carrying  on  you  never  did  see.  I  was  trying  my 
best  not  to  get  homesick  or  mind  being  away  from 
you  all,  so  far,  but  I'm  afraid  I  was  a  bit  lone- 
some. And  now  Aunt  T.  has  come  and  I'm  quite 
the  happiest  young  person  you  ever  saw.  It's 
an  awfully  busy  time  of  course  but  I  think  I  shall 
be  able  to  get  off  and  have  some  meals  with  her, 
and  just  to  know  that  some  one  who  belongs  to 
you  is  within  seeing  distance  makes  all  the  differ- 
ence. 

You  may  be  sure  that  I  am  thinking  of  you  all 
at  home  and  of  the  years  and  years  of  Christmas 
eves  that  stretch  into  the  past.  I  know  you  are 
busy  trimming  the  house  with  holly  wreaths  and 
mistletoe  and  there  is  a  feeling  of  mystery  and 
wonder  in  the  air.  I  can  see  the  guest  room  piled 
high  with  gifts  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  and  down- 
stairs an  expectant  row  of  stockings  hanging  be- 
fore the  library  fire.  How  I  should  love  to  peek 
in  on  you  all  to-night  and  yet  I  know  you  are  as 
thankful  as  I  am  that  I  am  right  where  I  am  and 
at  least  trying  to  do  my  tiny  bit  to  help  over  here. 
May  we  all  be  together  before  another  year  has 
rolled  around ! 

One  can't  help  thinking  of  the  hundreds  of 
thousand  allied  soldiers  spending  their  Christmas 


56  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

eve  in  the  trenches  and  of  course  especially  our 
own  lads  who  are  beginning  to  get  their  taste  of 
war. 

I  remember  Uncle  S.  telling  me  about  the  Rus- 
sian Front  just  at  this  season  a  year  ago.  The 
Russians  from  their  side  heard  the  Germans  sing- 
ing the  familiar  "  Stille  Nacht  "  and  other  Christ- 
mas carols  and  gathered  that  the  Boches  were  cel- 
ebrating and  would  not  be  in  a  mood  for  fighting. 
The  Russians  therefore  stopped  all  operations 
and  gave  themselves  up  to  the  night  that  gener- 
ally means  "  peace  and  good  will."  At  about  two 
o'clock,  the  Germans  realized  that  all  was  silent 
over  the  enemy  lines  and  at  once  launched  a  mam- 
moth attack  which  caught  the  Russians  unawares 
and  Christmas  morning  dawned  on  a  wholesale 
massacre  and  slaughter,  until  the  Bzura  river 
was  red  with  blood  and  a  mass  of  bodies  floating 
down  the  stream. 

Later. 

I  managed  to  get  out  for  a  few  moments  just 
before  dinner  and  slipped  up  to  Tante's  room  in 
the  hotel  with  a  lot  of  foolish  little  gifts  and  a 
huge  bunch  of  holly  that  I  had  purchased  and 
spread  them  on  her  trunk  with  a  steamer  blanket 
over  it  and  a  wreath  of  holly  all  around.  It 
looked  quite  sweet  and  I  did  feel  so  Christmasy 
while  I  was  doing  it. 

I  have  just  now  come  home  and  the  bells  are 
ringing  all  over  the  city  so  I  know  it  is  midnight. 


BORDEAUX  57 

It  seemed  stranger  than  ever  to-night  walking 
down  my  cobble-stoned  street  with  the  quaint, 
picturesque  roofs  outlined  against  the  sky.  Such 
a  change  from  last  year  to  this  war-like  France. 
The  streets  full  of  soldiers  and  I,  myself,  in  a 
uniform !    What  a  world  it  is ! 

Bordeaux,  December  27th,  1917. 

Such  crowded  busy  hours  as  we  have  put  in 
during  the  last  few  days.  However,  there  will  be 
a  bit  of  a  breathing  spell  now,  as  there  are  to  be 
fewer  men  in  on  leave  until  New  Year's.  This 
afternoon  Aunt  T.  is  coming  to  see  my  hideous 
little  room.  I  have  built  a  fire  that  is  much  too 
large  for  my  diminutive  fire-place,  and  we  are 
to  have  tea  and  cake!  So  you  see  it  is  to  be  a 
regular  house  warming. 

I  don't  know  whether  I  have  written  you  about 
my  sleeping  apartment  before.  At  any  rate,  it  is 
on  the  top  floor  of  a  tall  thin  house.  It  was  the 
only  place  I  could  get  and  so  I  have  thought  it 
wiser  to  laugh  at  its  disadvantages.  There  is  no 
coal,  and  wood  costs  six  francs  for  eight  pieces  so 
one  just  goes  without  except  on  special  occasions 
like  to-day.  I  generally  get  in  from  the  canteen 
about  11 :30  p.  m.  and  then  my  four  flights  seem  a 
bit  of  a  climb,  but  it  is  nice  to  have  a  little  spot 
of  your  own  and  I'm  always  so  glad  to  get  to  the 
top  of  the  stairs.  I  still  have  struggles  with  my 
hot  water  bag,  for  I  can  always  see  my  breath  in 
the  room  and  I  think  "  old  faithful "  has  gotten 


58  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

a  bit  discouraged  and  doesn't  think  it  worth  while 
to  keep  warm  in  this  damp  penetrating  clime. 

The  room  is  papered  in  a  mud-colored  tone  of 
gold,  beetle-shaped  figures  scattered  over  it  at 
intervals  of  two  inches!  I  have  a  black  iron 
bedstead  and  a  fire-place  and  mantelpiece  made 
of  the  black  and  white  mottled  marble  that  is  used 
for  tombstones!  There  are  two  windows,  but 
unfortunately  one  can't  look  out  as  they  are 
made  of  red  and  navy  blue  stained  glass.  How- 
ever, I  am  very  fond  of  my  little  room  and  to-day 
it  wears  a  gay  and  festive  look  in  anticipation  of 
my  party.  I  have  put  all  my  photographs  out 
and  we  are  going  to  have  a  fine  cozy  time  I  know. 

Bordeaux,  January  7th,  1918. 

I  don't  know  whether  I  shall  put  in  a  bid  for 
the  Front  when  Spring  comes  or  not.  I  think 
there  is  a  chance  that  I'd  get  my  opportunity  to 
go  as  the  Y  is  giving  the  best  places  to  those  who 
have  been  in  the  service  longest  and  had  some 
little  experience.  Of  course,  there  is  always  my 
age  to  stand  in  the  way  and  make  me  wish  I  were 
a  hundred  and  fifty  with  snow-white  hair !  Also 
they  don't  let  women  go  very  close  to  the  trenches 
and  are  getting  more  and  more  strict  about  it. 
Here,  I  am  working  in  rapidly  and  get  more  re- 
sponsibility each  day.  It's  hard  to  know  just 
where  the  need  is  the  greatest. 

I  have  just  been  given  almost  complete  charge 
of  our  tea  room  at  the  Hut  as  every  one  else  hates 


BORDEAUX  59 

housekeeping  and  accounts.  I  pay  the  bills,  or- 
der all  the  food,  keep  the  books  and  look  after 
the  maids,  all  en  frangais  and,  take  it  from  Mani, 
it's  some  job !  The  boys  consume  over  two  thou- 
sand a  week  of  the  special  cakes  that  we  have 
made  of  American  flour,  and  drink  literally  gal- 
lons of  chocolate.  You  know  the  French  temper- 
ament and  love  it  as  I  do,  but  you  can  imagine 
that  a  large  per  cent,  of  our  supplies  go  into  the 
capacious  mouths  and  pockets  of  our  servants, 
unless  I  stand  guard  all  the  time. 

We  have  numerous  French  ladies  of  the  "  first 
Bordeaux  families  "  who  come  to  help  us  certain 
afternoons  a  week,  and  incidentally  to  pick  up 
the  latest  gossip  and  perfect  their  rather  halting 
English.  Eager  French  mothers  bring  their 
awkward  young  daughters  to  meet  the  flower  of 
American  manhood,  and  the  F.  of  A.  M.  turn 
and  flee  for  their  lives  when  they  see  them,  pre- 
ferring greatly  the  chic,  pretty  little  shop  girls 
with  which  Bordeaux  is  filled!  The  reason  we 
have  these  "  first "  excellent  females  is  "  to 
cement  the  feeling  of  brotherhood  between  France 
and  America,"  and  it  is  my  delightful  job  to  wel- 
come the  French  mademoiselles  and  keep  them 
working ;  a  thing  this  class  of  girls  have  never  in 
their  lives  done,  up  to  date. 

Bordeaux,  January  27th,  1918. 
Miss  Ely,  our  chief  in  Paris  and  the  director 
of  all  the  women  Y  workers  in  France,  came  down 


60  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

yesterday  on  a  tour  of  inspection  and  to  have  a 
look  at  this  busy  section.  She  is  a  wonder  and 
has  always  been  fine  to  me.  This  time  she  was 
especially  nice  and  seemed  to  approve  of  the  little 
I  have  been  able  to  do  in  my  two  months  here. 
I  told  her  I  should  like  to  stay  on  for  the  present 
and  then  go  nearer  the  Front  in  the  Spring. 
From  what  she  said,  I  think  I  shall  get  my  oppor- 
tunity. In  a  few  months  we  ought  to  have  our 
big  place  here  in  splendid  shape  and  then  I  should 
love  the  experience  of  helping  out  with  the  men 
straight  from  the  trenches.  Luckily,  we  had 
word  that  Miss  Ely  was  coming,  so  our  building 
looked  especially  clean  and  in  apple  pie  order! 
Also,  all  the  women  put  on  every  detail  of  the 
regulation  uniform,  some  of  which  is  generally 
discarded,  and  altogether  made  the  desired  im- 
pression. 

It's  very  hard  not  to  worry  about  the  various 
lads  I  know  at  the  Front.  No  word  from  Ted  in 
weeks,  which  means  that  he  has  gone  into  the  line 
with  his  Division,  as  he  had  expected.  Some  one 
brings  in  a  new  rumor  each  day  and  I  don't  see 
how  any  one  is  to  come  out  alive.  It  makes  me  so 
heartsick  sometimes  that  it's  difficult  to  keep 
smiling  and  put  my  mind  on  my  work.  Billy 
Tailer  is,  I  know,  flying  at  the  Front  now.  One 
of  his  latest  letters  dated  in  December  said: 
"  War  is  looming  up  pretty  big  for  little  me.  I 
will  be  regular  bait  for  the  Germans  any  day 


BORDEAUX  61 

now.  If  I  do  happen  to  get  it,  wounded  or  other- 
wise, I  won't  forget  our  many  good  times  to- 
gether. You  certainly  aided  my  existence  over 
here  a  thousand  fold.  I  am  flying  a  150  H.  P. 
*  Spad.'  They  are  fine  machines  and  terrifically 
fast,  things  just  fade  away  when  you  are  near  the 
ground."  Billy  is  such  a  winsome  sort  of  person 
and  one  of  the  most  lovable  and  unselfish  boys 
I  know.  He  is  always  talking  about  his  family 
and  especially  of  his  mother  in  whom  he  is  en- 
tirely wrapped  up.  I  wish  we  had  more  like  him. 
I  remember  the  luncheons  we  had  in  Paris, — 
occasionally  he  brought  along  some  friend  from 
the  Escadrille  and  they  talked  casually  about 
how  they  would  arrange  to  have  me  told  when 
they  were  killed!  And  it  isn't  that  Bill  is  a 
morbid  type  and  wants  to  die.  I  have  never  seen 
any  one  who  got  more  sheer  enjoyment  out  of 
everyday  life.  He  simply  has  the  most  wonderful 
capacity  for  complete  self-sacrifice  and  his  duty 
and  what  it  may  entail  is  so  utterly  apparent  that 
it  never  occurs  to  him  that  he  could  follow  an- 
other course. 

Bordeaux,  February  5th,  1918. 
Yesterday  I  received  a  letter  from  the  Y.  M.  C. 
A.  Headquarters  informing  me  that  I  had  been 
transferred  to  another  post  and  to  report  to  Paris 
at  once.  I  can't  tell  you  the  name  of  the  place 
I  am  going  to  but  I  suppose  it  is  the  most  im- 


62  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

portant  proposition  that  the  Y  has  tackled  so  far 
and  the  one  place  in  which  every  one  is  crazy  to 
be  stationed. 

You  see,  General  Pershing  isn't  granting  any 
"  leaves  "  to  the  big  cities,  so  they  have  picked  out 
one  small  town  ideally  situated,  and  the  men  are 
all  ordered  to  spend  their  eight  day  "  permis- 
sion "  there.  General  Pershing  has  turned  over 
the  entire  organization  of  this  big  "  leave  camp  " 
to  the  Y  and  they  are  picking  people  from  all 
their  different  districts  to  go  and  get  it  started, 
and  then  to  stay  and  run  it.  For  some  unknown 
and  extraordinary  reason,  I've  been  asked  to  go, 
the  only  one  from  this  Base,  and  I  am  simply 
overcome.  I  presume  my  place  here  was  the  one 
which  could  be  most  easily  filled  and  then,  I  am 
young  and  they  want  all  the  girls  they  can  get  to 
cheer  up  the  boys  and  make  up  to  them  for  not 
going  to  Paris. 

It  is  vitally  important  that  when  the  men  come 
out  of  the  trenches  they  shouldn't  relax  morally 
during  their  "  leave  "  and  take  to  drinking,  etc. 
After  all  the  frightfulness  that  they  have  gone 
through  it  isn't  strange  that  a  bit  of  civilized  life 
and  liberty  should  go  to  their  heads  and  it  is  the 
time  to  insert  good  influence  instead  of  bad. 
Most  of  the  men  who  will  come  on  leave  have 
been  in  the  lines  since  November  without  ever 
having  had  the  sight  of  a  woman.  They  have 
not  even  seen  an  undevastated  town. 

I  do  think  we  have  our  work  cut  out  for  us  as 


BORDEAUX  63 

they  will  be  disappointed  when  they  find  that 
they  can't  go  where  they  like.  However,  it's  go- 
ing to  be  mighty  interesting,  I  fancy.  I  feel  that 
the  work  I  have  been  doing  is  important,  but  if 
possible,  the  kind  I  am  about  to  try  is  more  so, 
and  I  am  grateful  for  the  extraordinary  oppor- 
tunity. 

P.  S.,  11 :  30  P.  M. 

The  news  has  just  come  in  of  the  sinking  of  an 
American  transport.  Two  hundred  and  fifty 
men  lost! 

It's  this  kind  of  thing  that  makes  the  boys  grit 
their  teeth,  and  the  Germans  will  certainly  get 
what  is  coming  to  them  now.  Think  of  all  those 
lives  lost  before  they  had  even  had  their  chance 
to  strike  back.     It  makes  one  boil  with  rage. 


CHAPTER  IV 

AIX-LES-BAINS 

Paris,  February  9th,  1981. 
Here  I  am  after  a  very  comfortable  trip,  but 
the  joy  of  seeing  Paris  again  has  been  completely 
overshadowed  by  the  news  in  this  morning's 
Herald.  Billy  Tailer,  the  best  of  friends  and 
the  most  splendid  of  men,  has  been  killed,  while 
flying  over  the  German  lines.  I  always  knew  in 
a  vague  way  that  I'd  be  terribly  cut  up  if  any- 
thing happened  to  him,  but  I  never  knew  it  would 
be  like  this.  Somehow  I  feel  ten  years  older  and 
the  war  has  become  a  more  hideous  reality  than 
ever.  I  could  kill  any  Boche  who  crossed  my 
path  to-night.  Every  street  corner  of  this  city 
reminds  me  of  Bill,  and  the  whole  place  seems 
alive  with  memories  of  his  radiant,  boyish  face; 
for  he  was  nothing  but  a  boy  in  years  and  yet 
with  the  mature  soul  and  character  of  a  man.  I 
shall  miss  Billy  more  than  I  can  realize  now.  He 
is  the  first  of  my  friends  to  "  go  West '''  and  per- 
haps that  makes  it  harder.  One  can't  help  feel- 
ing proud  of  any  one  who  died  in  so  glorious  a 
way  for  his  country,  but  it  seems  so  infinitely  sad 
and  when  the  world  needs  Bill's  kind  so  badly. 
There  was  a  beautiful   tribute  to  him  in  the 

64 


AIX-LES-BAINS  65 

Herald  and  a  picture.  It  seems  he  was  killed 
while  trying  to  avenge  the  death  of  one  of  his 
friends.  It  was  so  entirely  characteristic;  he 
was  the  most  valiant  of  friends.  It  was  a  very 
desperate  but  unequal  fight  in  the  air  and  finally 
Billy's  machine  crashed  to  the  ground.  This  has 
been  a  fearful  shock  to  me.  One  minute  Bill  is 
here  and  alive,  smiling.  The  next,  gone  —  with- 
out a  sign. 

Paris,  February  12th,  1918. 

A  wonderful  Spring  day,  and  Paris  a  dream  of 
loveliness.  The  streets  are  gay  with  color  and 
the  flower  carts  piled  high  with  exquisite  sprays 
of  mimosa  and  huge  bunches  of  deep  purple  vio- 
lets ;  it  is  all  one  can  do  not  to  buy  an  armful.  I 
have  been  tearing  around  all  day  getting  orders 
for  my  new  post,  tickets,  "  movement  order " 
stamped,  etc.  We  don't  leave  until  to-morrow 
and  there  are  to  be  fifteen  Y  women  on  my  train, 
so  I  shall  be  well  chaperoned ! 

I  have  been  trying  to  keep  very  busy  so  as  not 
to  think  about  Billy  too  much.  This  new  job  is 
one  in  which  cheer  and  a  smiling  appearance 
count  for  everything,  and  I  am  trying  hard  to  get 
in  the  proper  mood. 

Aix-les-Bains,  February  14th,  1918. 
Well,  it  was  a  great  trip  down.     I  found  in 
my  compartment  two  other  Y.  M.  C.  A.'ers  of  a 
youngish  age.    They  had  just  arrived  from  the 


66  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

States  and  this  was  their  first  post.  We  talked 
for  about  an  hour  blessing  our  stars  that  we  had 
the  whole  compartment  to  ourselves,  to  stretch 
out  in  a  bit.  We  had  put  out  the  light  and  each 
curled  up  in  her  cape  when  the  door  was  yanked 
open  and  a  large,  blue-clad  French  officer  thrust 
himself  into  our  midst.  Poor  soul,  he  certainly 
had  a  night  of  it,  as  both  windows  were  open,  and 
you  doubtless  know  the  French  opinion  of 
"  poisonous  night  air."  He  had  just  settled  him- 
self and  was  slumbering  sweetly  when  Miss 
O'Connor's  huge,  heavy  roll  came  smashing  down 
upon  his  head.  I  guess  he  ended  up  by  longing 
for  the  peace  of  the  trenches ! 

I  find  that  every  one  else  is  writing  home  the 
name  of  the  place  where  "  we  are  at,"  so  I  cer- 
tainly am  going  to.  We  are  at  Aix-les-Bains, 
and  I  guess  you  will  agree  that  it  is  an  ideal  place 
for  a  leave-camp.  Of  course,  never  having  been 
in  this  part  of  France  before,  it  is  all  delightfully 
new  and  beautiful  beyond  words.  The  last  few 
hours  in  the  train  were  wonderful,  we  were 
climbing  up,  up,  with  a  gorgeous  sunrise  glorify- 
ing the  tops  of  the  Alps. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  has  taken  over  the  mammoth 
Casino,  which  is  the  most  splendid  affair  of  its 
kind  I've  ever  seen;  all  marble  pillars  and  won- 
derful frescoes  and  shiny  hard-wood  floors.  The 
terrace  takes  up  one  entire  side  and  is  generally 
flooded  with  sunshine.  It  looks  right  out  upon  a 
magnificent  stretch  of  snow-capped  mountains. 


AIX-LES-BAINS  67 

We  have  a  life-sized  theater  for  Mr.  E.  H.  Sothern 
and  other  lights  to  perform  in,  and  a  huge  as- 
sembly room  for  movies.  The  ball  room  is  going 
to  be  filled  with  booths  where  candy,  cigarettes, 
etc.,  are  sold,  and  the  enormous  bar  has  been 
turned  into  the  canteen!  It  is  of  solid  marble 
and  the  "  grandest "  thing  you  ever  saw.  We  are 
making  a  library  out  of  a  large  reading  and 
writing  room,  fitted  up  with  easy  chairs,  and 
glassed  in  on  all  sides.  The  sun  just  pours  in 
and,  so  far,  there  has  been  plenty  of  sun. 

The  old  gambling  rooms  are  being  turned  into 
billiard  and  pool  rooms,  and  it  is  whispered  that 
a  man  from  Huyler's  is  on  the  way  over  to  run 
the  first  real  live  American  soda  fountain  that 
has  arrived.  We  expect  the  first  four  hundred 
and  fifty  men  to-morrow,  and  the  same  number 
arrive  every  day  from  now  on.  They  have  a  full 
week  here  and  will  keep  coming  and  going.  In 
this  way,  we  shall  be  taking  care  of  about  three 
thousand  men  each  week. 

All  the  Y  women  workers  are  living  together 
in  two  apartments  in  a  sort  of  family  hotel. 
There  are  about  fifteen  of  us  so  far  and  I  was 
delighted  to  find  that  Mrs.  Margaret  Deland  is 
one  of  the  fifteen !  Most  of  the  women  range  all 
the  way  from  thirty  to  fifty,  but  they  are  an  ex- 
tremely nice  lot  and  we  all  work  together  mighty 
well.  I  am  rooming  with  Miss  O'Connor,  a  very 
keen,  intelligent  girl,  who  is  one  of  the  librarians 
in  the  New  York  City  Public  Library.    We  get 


68  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

along  beautifully,  have  a  fine  big  room  with  a 
balcony  and  a  view  that  takes  your  breath  away. 

The  food  is  excellent  and  we  all  eat  together  at 
a  big,  long  table  and  have  a  very  jolly  time.  I 
cannot  get  over  how  lucky  I  am  to  be  here  and 
from  every  standpoint  it  is  great.  The  climate 
and  air  are  splendid,  and,  of  course,  the  experi- 
ence is  invaluable.  We  shall  meet,  in  time,  every 
man  who  is  serving  in  France ! 

To-morrow  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  meet 
the  troop  train,  so  I  must  to  bed.  The  boys  will 
need  extra  cheering  after  the  perfectly  frightful 
news  from  Russia.  We  hope  we  can  make  them 
forget  things  and  just  enjoy  themselves  for  the 
week  that  they're  here. 

I've  spent  the  day  in  the  cellar  of  the  Casino, 
scrubbing  shelves  with  soap  and  water  and  stor- 
ing supplies  for  the  Canteen.  Everything  is 
ready  now  and  looks  lovely. 

Aix-les-Bains,  February  17th,  1918. 

The  days  since  I  wrote  last  have  been  so  full 
of  preparation  for  the  coming  of  all  these  boys 
that  I  haven't  had  a  moment  to  myself. 

We  expected  them  a  day  before  they  arrived 
and  the  whole  population  of  the  town  had  been 
practically  camping  out  at  the  railroad  station. 
General  Alaire  came  down  to  open  up  the  leave 
camp  formally  and  E.  H.  Sothern  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Wiuthrop  Ames  to  run  the  beginning  enter- 


AIX-LES-BAINS  69 

tainments.  We  all  waited  around  with  great 
impatience  until  the  wire  came  that  the  boys  were 
actually  on  the  way. 

James  Europe's  famous  orchestra  (New  York 
City)  which  is  now  attached  to  the  15th  Infantry 
is  going  to  be  here  three  weeks.  Twenty-eight 
darkies,  with  Mr.  Europe  himself  in  the  lead,  ar- 
rayed in  shoulder  straps  and  the  silver  bars  of 
a  First  Lieutenant !  They  are  perfectly  scream- 
ing but  a  marvelous  band  and  when  they  came 
marching  down  the  street  to  meet  the  troops  yes- 
terday, the  French  people  went  perfectly  wild 
over  them. 

Just  before  the  troop  train  pulled  in,  a  lot 
of  my  Bordeaux  Naval  Aviation  boys  came 
through  on  their  way  to  a  final  training  camp. 
They  had  several  moments  to  wait,  so  piled  off  to 
see  if  I  was  down  at  the  station  to  meet  the 
troops.  Of  course  I  was,  and  it  was  wonderful 
seeing  some  old  friends.  They've  all  gotten  their 
commissions  since  sailor-suit  days  in  Bordeaux 
and  look  stunning  in  their  new  uniforms. 

After  their  train  had  left,  the  troop  train 
pulled  in  and  in  all  my  life  I  never  expect  to 
be  so  thrilled  again.  After  almost  a  week  with- 
out work  and  without  Sammies,  I  could  have 
cried,  I  was  so  glad  to  see  the  familiar  khaki. 
Also,  the  boys  were  just  as  they  had  come  out  of 
the  trenches  a  day  before,  muddy  boots  and  heavy 
packs,  steel  helmets  and  all.     The  first  lot  I've 


70  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

seen  straight  from  the  Front  and  I  never  was 
prouder  that  I  was  an  American.  There  are  no 
other  men  in  the  world  like  them. 

Aix  turned  itself  inside  out  to  receive  them. 
The  Mayor,  arrayed  in  a  tall  silk  hat  and  long- 
tailed  coat,  made  a  beautiful  speech !  The  village 
band  played  the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  and  the 
Boy  Scouts  marched  in  the  parade.  Of  course 
there  were  thousands  of  cameras  snapping 
pictures,  and  movies  are  coming  out  soon.  You 
must  be  on  the  lookout  for  them,  and  for  me 
standing  near  the  center  holding  a  big  American 
flag,  and  looking  thrilled  to  the  core ! 

I  never  have  seen  a  more  beautiful  sight  than 
those  splendid  boys  marching  from  the  station 
with  the  glorious  mountains  looming  up  in  the 
background  against  a  cloudless  blue  sky.  They 
are  all  such  dears,  so  thrilled  at  being  on  leave 
and  so  delightfully  pleased  with  everything  and 
everybody. 

We  had  the  most  wonderful  show  in  the  thea- 
ter last  night  for  them,  representatives  from 
many  theaters  in  London  and  Paris  and  ending 
up  with  Sothem  himself  who  was  fine,  of  course. 
Altogether  a  most  successful  beginning. 

Aix,  February  19th,  1918. 

Day  before  yesterday,  much  to  my  relief,  I  got 

a  long  delayed  letter  from  Ted  A.  and  yesterday 

with  a  new  bunch  of  boys  that  came  in  were 

twenty  men  from  his  particular  battery  in  the 


AIXLES-BAINS  71 

artillery.  They  knew  "  Lieutenant  A."  well  and 
had  seen  him  three  days  before.  They  will  take  a 
letter  directly  to  him  when  they  return  to  the 
trenches,  which  makes  it  very  nice  as  the  regular 
Postal  Service  takes  a  month  or  more.  Since 
Bill's  death,  I  have  naturally  become  more  anx- 
ious about  all  my  friends  "out  there." 

Mother,  you  would  be  quite  pleased  with  me  if 
you  could  see  me  now.  I  have  on  four  shirts, 
underdrawers,  woolen  stockings,  knitted  knee 
protectors  and  two  sweaters.  I  am  about  as 
broad  as  I  am  long,  but  none  of  us  seem  to  be 
able  to  keep  the  intense  cold  out.  We  are  pretty 
high  up  in  the  mountains  and  the  huge  Casino 
in  which  I  work  from  two  P.  M.  to  midnight 
isn't  heated  at  all,  and  you  can  imagine  it  is  ex- 
actly like  a  tomb.  Luckily,  here  in  the  Pension, 
we  have  a  beautifully  sunshiny  room  and  a  stove 
in  the  hall,  so  we  get  thawed  out  once  a  day  and 
manage  to  survive. 

My  job  consists  in  being  interpreter  for  any 
one  who  needs  me,  and  serving  hot  drinks,  sand- 
wiches and  hot  dishes  (of  sausages,  potato,  mac- 
aroni, etc. )  over  the  top  of  the  beautiful  marble 
counter  to  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  ravenous 
doughboys.  The  boys  are  full  of  the  most  amaz- 
ing tales  and  I  haven't  had  such  an  interesting 
time  since  I  came  to  France.  They're  none  of 
them  very  sanguine  about  a  speedy  finish  of  the 
war,  alas. 


T2  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Aix,  Washington's  Birthday,  1918. 

Yesterday  I  had  an  afternoon  off  and  motored 
over  with  Mrs.  Roosevelt  to  Chambery  where  the 
Y  has  just  opened  up  its  second  leave  camp.  It 
is  only  about  ten  miles  away  and  not  nearly  as 
large  as  this;  only  accommodating  three  hundred 
instead  of  three  thousand.  The  country  between 
here  and  there  is  ravishing,  the  Alps  and  the  sun 
on  the  snow,  so  beautiful  it  makes  you  ache. 

I  spent  the  afternoon  in  the  Chamb6ry  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  Headquarters,  talking  and  singing  with  the 
men.  It  is  very  attractive  over  there.  The 
fact  of  there  being  fewer  makes  it  much  more 
homey  and  at  four  o'clock  the  boys  all  come  in 
and  have  chocolate  in  front  of  blazing  fires  which 
they  have  in  all  the  rooms.  The  building  was  a 
club  before  the  war,  and  adapts  itself  very  well 
to  this  sort  of  thing.  Mrs.  Roosevelt  has  been 
working  like  a  horse  to  get  it  in  shape  and  as  she 
has  beautiful  taste,  it  looks  lovely.  The  reading 
rooms  are  gay  with  chintz,  and  big  bowls  of  vio- 
lets and  mimosa  on  the  mantelpieces. 

Last  night  at  the  Casino  we  had  what  was 
called  "  Stunt  Night."  Every  one  who  could 
act,  sing,  dance,  etc.,  got  up  and  did  it,  and  it 
was  very  amusing.  I  do  believe  a  crowd  of  "  reg- 
ulars "  are  the  most  pitiless  of  judges.  One  poor, 
little  Jew  got  up  and  thought  he  could  sing,  but 
scores  of  scornful  voices  at  once  informed  him 
that  he  was  mistaken,  and  the  poor  goul  was 


AIX-LES-BAINS  73 

dragged  off  the  stage  by  main  force  and  the  aid 
of  a  hook  (a  long  cane)  ! 

Mrs.  Roosevelt  has  gone  up  to  Paris  to  get  ten 
more  workers  for  Aix  alone.  We  have  much  too 
few  to  swing  things  properly  and  have  worked 
like  dogs  the  past  week.  Personally,  I  am  used 
to  it,  but  some  of  the  other  women  are  new  to  the 
job  and  look  like  wrecks. 

We  have  abundant  and  delicious  food  at  our 
Pension.  One  hears  so  much  about  food  short- 
age but  Savoy  is  so  rich  in  products  of  all  kinds 
that,  so  far,  we  haven't  lacked  for  a  thing  and  I 
am  growing  disgracefully  fat. 

I'm  so  sorry  that  my  letters  haven't  been  get- 
ting over.  The  censor  must  have  been  holding 
them.  I  wonder  if  I've  been  saying  too  much. 
It's  so  hard  not  to  tell  all  you  know,  otherwise 
I  should  just  have  to  send  the  usual  "  well  and 
happy  "  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

The  extreme  cold  has  broken  and  Miss  O'Con- 
nor and  I  are  bundled  up  and  writing  in  the  sun 
on  our  wee  balcony.  It  is  quite  glorious  and 
the  world  a  very  beautiful  place  this  morning.  I 
wish  you  could  enjoy  our  view.  The  clouds  are 
just  drifting  off  of  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and 
the  atmosphere  is  as  clear  as  crystal,  so  that  one 
can  pick  out  each  individual  fir  tree,  black  against 
the  side  of  the  lower  Alps. 

Now  to  work.  You  don't  know  with  what  sat- 
isfaction I  say  that. 


74  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Aix-les-Bains,  February  27'th,  1918. 

The  papers  are  certainly  discouraging  reading 
now,  and  the  facts  that  don't  get  printed  make 
one  sick.  Great  things  are  brewing  up  the  line 
and  the  trainload  of  boys  that  leave  here  every 
day  to  go  back,  carry  the  most  determined  lot 
you  ever  saw,  although  every  one  knows  what  his 
fate  may  be. 

Miss  O'Connor  being  out,  I  am  taking  this  ex- 
cellent opportunity  of  "  hooking  "  her  pen !  I 
have  been  working  unusually  hard  since  I  ar- 
rived here,  but  for  reasons  which  under  the  laws 
of  the  Medes  and  Persians  we  are  not  allowed 
to  write  of,  work  has  suddenly  become  slack, — 
though  I  don't  doubt  the  papers  at  home  are 
full  of  it !  At  any  rate,  being  a  leave-camp,  we 
are  just  at  present  not  too  popular,  at  least  not 
as  popular  as  another  place  which,  as  Ed  puts 
it,  "  is  a  few  yards  nearer  Heaven !  "  After  the 
mad  whirl  since  opening,  no  one  is  especially 
upset  at  a  bit  of,  respite. 

Yesterday  I  went  down  to  the  station  to  see 
one  of  our  troop  trains  off.  I  know  practically 
every  lad  in  it.  Several  of  us  stood  at  the  end 
of  the  platform  and  shook  hands  with  each  boy 
as  the  train  moved  slowly  past.  They  were  all 
hanging  out  of  the  windows  with  hands  out- 
stretched, the  setting  sun  shining  full  on  their 
eager,  boyish  faces,  and  many  of  them  smiling 
bravely  through  a  mist  of  tears.    We  waved  and 


AIX-LES-BAINS  75 

waved  as  they  pulled  out  and  could  still  see  a 
flutter  of  handkerchiefs  and  hear  a  faint  cheer  in 
the  distance,  when  the  train  turned  the  bend  and 
was  lost  to  sight.  Every  one  left  on  that  plat- 
form was  crying,  even  the  officers,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve any  of  us  will  every  forget  it  as  long  as  we 
live. 

They  went  back  without  one  word  of  com- 
plaint, knowing  that  for  most  of  them  it  would 
be  the  last  journey,  before  that  great  mysterious 
one  from  which  there  is  no  returning.  They  were 
very  full  of  gratitude  for  the  little  we  have  been 
able  to  do  for  them  here.  One  boy  said  to  me: 
"  Girlie,  it  will  seem  just  like  a  dream,  when  we 
get  back  there."  One  can't  help  but  hope  that 
whatever  seemed  to  them  beautiful  in  this  short 
"  dream  "  will  stand  by  to  make  life,  and  even 
death,  easier  "  out  there." 

That  hope,  and  the  power  to  pack  their  brief 
"  leave  "  full  of  the  memory  of  home  influences 
and  of  home  joys,  makes  this  leave-camp  work,  to 
my  mind,  the  most  important  kind  that  is  being 
done,  outside  of  the  trenches.  The  strain  emo- 
tionally and  physically  is  greater  than  anything 
which  I  have  so  far  taken  up,  but  I  am  sure  that 
I  have  the  strength  and  that  I  shall  find  all  that 
I  lack  in  the  way  of  brawn.  Surely  when  it  is 
for  so  important  a  cause,  the  strength  will  not 
be  lacking.  So  far  I  feel  very  well,  and  in  all 
my  life  I  have  never  looked  so  strong. 


76  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Aix-les-Bains,  February  28th,  1918. 
Mrs.  Deland  feels  as  most  every  one  over  here 
does,  that  our  generation  has  seen  happier  times 
than  we  ever  will  see  again,  that  we  are  on  the 
verge  of  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  the  world,  in 
which  the  old  order  of  things  will  be  entirely 
changed,  and  there  will  be  all  kinds  of  revolu- 
tions and  wars  between  capital  and  labor,  etc. 
I  get  quite  discouraged  when  I  hear  all  these  in- 
tellectual guys  talking  about  it  and  realize  how 
very  little  I  know  concerning  the  big  forces  in 
our  country  and  what  part  they  will  play  in 
this  war  for  democracy.  I  am  trying  hard  to 
learn  things,  to  read  when  I  get  a  minute's  time 
and  listen,  with  ears  flapping  during  meal  times, 
but  it  is  hard  to  keep  up  with  everything  when 
one  hasn't  even  time  to  look  at  a  paper.  Of 
course,  my  time,  my  interest,  everything  I  have 
to  give,  centers  round  the  boys,  and  it  is  rather 
awful  how  (with  the  exception  of  my  family) 
nothing  else  makes  a  whoop  of  difference.  They 
are  so  interesting,  so  funny  and  above  all  so 
adorably  simple  that  working  amongst  them  is  an 
ever-changing  experience.  At  meal  times  we  all 
have  strings  of  stories  to  tell  of  the  absurd 
things  they  have  said  or  done  during  a  single 
morning  or  afternoon.  Most  of  the  lads  are 
very  gay  and  care  free,  regular  "leave-spirits." 
They  show  their  serious  side  but  seldom,  except 
when  we  are  down  at  the  station  waiting  for  the 
train.     Then,  all  at  once,  the  inner  nature  asserts 


AIX-LES-BAINS  77 

itself  and  they  say  things  that  bring  a  lump  into 
your  throat.  I  wouldn't  give  up  experiences  I 
have  had  during  my  two  weeks  here  for  anything 
in  life. 

Aix-les-Bains,  March  2nd,  1918. 
To-day  we  awoke  to  find  a  heavy  blanket  of 
snow  over  everything  and  it  is  still  snowing 
hard.     After   our    few    brief    days    of   springy 
weather  it  surely  is  a  sudden  change. 

The  boys  have  been  coming  in  from  their 
tramps  in  the  mountains  with  bunches  of  ex- 
quisite yellow  primroses,  pussy  willows,  snow 
drops  and  all  the  other  lovely  forerunners  of 
Spring.  Our  canteen  shelves  have  looked  like  a 
flower  show,  and  it  makes  one  shiver  to  think  how 
many  of  those  posies  are  buried  now  under  such 
a  cold,  wet  blanket. 

Last  night  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Francis  Eogers  gave 
us  a  delightful  evening  in  the  Casino.  You  may 
remember  my  writing  you  that  I  had  heard  them 
in  Paris,  months  ago  when  they  first  came  over. 
Mrs.  Rogers's  monologues  are  even  better  now, 
and  are  really  quite  wonderful.  Mr.  Rogers's 
voice  sounds  as  though  he  had  used  it  a  lot,  and 
I  know  he  has  of  late,  but  it  is  still  beautiful. 
His  selection  of  songs  was  quite  perfect  and  most 
suitable  for  our  boys.  He  sang,  among  other 
things,  "  I  am  the  Master  of  my  Fate,  I  am 
the  Captain  of  my  Soul,"  and  it  really  thrilled  me 
through  and  through. 


78  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

I  always  sit  where  I  can  watch  the  boys'  faces, 
and  I  wish  some  times  you  could  be  with  me. 
The  music  puts  them  off  their  guard,  and  I  see 
what  it  means  when  people  say  that  their  souls 
shine  through  their  eyes.  Some  times  I  turn  my 
own  away;  it  seems  a  bit  of  a  sacrilege  not  to, 
although  the  expressions  are  so  beautiful  I  want 
to  look  and  look  and  forget  that  the  world  can 
ever  hold  anything  less  lovely. 

Mr.  Rogers  sang  that  marvelous  thing, 

"  If  I  were  drowned  in  the  deepest  sea, 

I  know  whose  prayers  would  come  down  to  me  — 

Mother  o'  Mine." 

After  all,  the  Mother  motif  reaches  these  lads 
when  all  else  fails,  and  I  wish  some  of  the 
hundreds  of  lonely  mothers  at  home  could  have 
seen  them  while  Mr.  Rogers  was  singing. 

I  guess  I  harp  a  great  deal  on  the  emotional 
end  of  my  work.  Of  course,  these  are  only  rare 
moments  in  the  midst  of  hours  and  days  of  the 
commonplace.  There  is  lots  of  jerking  and  teas- 
ing, and  very  occasionally  an  unkind  word  or  look 
thrown  in  for  balance.  These  lads  aren't  saints 
by  any  means, —  Just  natural  boys,  thank  God, 
each  with  a  spark  of  the  Old  Nick  in  him  without 
which  they  wouldn't  be  one-half  as  lovable. 
But  for  perseverance,  grit  and  sheer  pluck,  there 
is  no  nation  on  earth  that  can  beat  the 
Americans. 


AT  THE    AIX    RAILWAY   STATION:    SOLDIERS   RETURNING   TO 
THE  TRENCHES 


AIX-LES-BAINS  79 

Aix,  March  4th,  1918. 

The  last  few  days  have  been  very  slack  and  so 
we  have  been  resting  and  giving  parties  for  the 
remaining  permissionaires.  One  can  do  much 
more  homey  things  when  there  are  fewer  and  we 
had  a  regular  old-fashioned  game  party  Satur- 
day night,  playing  "  going  to  Jerusalem  "  and 
similar  infantile  things,  and  had  the  most  won- 
derful time.  The  boys  adored  it  and  as  every 
one  was  in  good  spirits,  there  was  a  prodigious 
amount  of  laughter  and  noise.  The  French  peo- 
ple think  we  are  absolutely  crazy. 

One  game  we  played  was  to  act  out  the  titles  of 
books.  My  team  drew  "  Trilby  "  and  as  I  was 
the  only  girl,  of  course  I  had  to  go  into  a  trance 
and  sing  "  Alice  Ben  Bolt."  As  I  had  a  cold  in 
my  head,  the  effect  was  not  beautiful! 

We  had  a  lovely  service  yesterday  morning  in 
the  Casino.  We  have  all  kinds  of  singers  and 
musicians  down  here,  supposed  to  be  entertain- 
ing the  boys,  but  for  the  moment  there  being  only 
about  a  hundred  boys  to  entertain,  we  are  getting 
the  benefit  of  all  their  accomplishments. 

To-night,  about  six  of  us  are  getting  up  a 
movie,  to  be  acted  out  by  a  few  Y.  M.  C.  A,  girls 
and  some  of  the  boys.  We  had  a  grand  time  mak- 
ing up  a  scenario  last  night  and  you  can  imagine 
how  I  enjoyed  it!  It  is  to  be  a  take-off  on  the 
usual  movie  plot.  There  is  a  rural  scene  between 
the  country  Lad  and  Lassie  ( I  am  to  be  the  Las- 
sie!).    He  goes  to  the  city  to  make  his  fortune 


80  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

at  art,  gets  ensnared  by  the  Siren,  who  has  him 
paint  her  portrait,  while  Jealous  Husband  drinks 
quarts  of  whisky  at  home!  The  Ingenue  waits 
in  vain  for  letters  which  never  come,  and  finally, 
when  she  is  left  penniless  by  the  death  of  her 
sweet  old  Mother  (Miss  O'Connor)  she  follows 
to  the  wicked  city  and,  of  course,  finds  her 
David  in  the  arms  of  the  Siren.  The  Ingenue 
faints  in  a  most  graceful  manner  while  Husband 
bursts  in  and  shoots  the  Siren  and  his  wife,  and 
then  draws  a  dagger  upon  the  unsuspecting  back 
of  David !  Of  course  Ruby,  the  Ingenue,  came  to 
from  her  swoon  just  in  time  to  stay  the  hand  of 
the  murderer,  whereupon  he  plunges  the  weapon 
into  his  own  heart  and  falls  unconscious  across 
the  body  of  his  dead  wife.  After  this  delightfully 
peaceful  scene  there  can  be  no  other  ending  than 
the  reconciliation  of  the  country  lad  and  lass, 
while  in  the  distance  is  heard  the  familiar  strain 
of  the  wedding  march ! 

This  is  merely  the  bare  outline.  Of  course, 
there  are  many  other  details,  such  as  love  scenes 
between  parlor  maid  and  butler,  etc.  It's  all 
perfectly  crazy  but  I  do  think  the  boys  will  enjoy 
it  and  so  far  it's  been  loads  of  fun. 

I  found  a  letter  in  my  box  the  day  the  Marines 
left  here,  after  their  week  of  leave.  The  marines 
are  always  such  appreciative  souls  for  any  little 
one  is  able  to  do  for  them.  They  are  the  best 
type  of  splendid,  loyal  men  we  are  dealing  with. 
What  a  joy  it  is  to  work  with  them! 


AIX-LES-BAINS  81 

I  must  stop  now  as  we  are  about  to  rehearse 
for  to-night. 

Aix,  March  5th,  1918. 

Well,  our  movie  was  really  a  howling  success 
and  I  guess  we  shall  have  to  repeat  it  when  there 
are  more  boys  here.  Every  one  did  splendidly 
and  even  the  actors  themselves  were  so  convulsed 
with  laughter  that  they  could  scarcely  go  on. 
It  was  great  fun  as  we  acted  in  the  real  theater 
in  the  Casino  with  spot-lights  and  a  whole  army 
of  scene  shifters. 

Yet  it  was  the  most  "  professional  "  thing  I 
have  done  and  every  one  is  suggesting  that  I 
leave  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  for  the  movies ! 

The  part  was  the  usual  tiresome  one  which  is 
always  shoved  on  me,  the  part  of  sweet  innocence, 
with  curls,  etc.  I  wore  my  gray  voile,  last  sum- 
mer's dress,  and  that  round  leghorn  hat  with  the 
rosebud  wreath  and  acted  like  a  foolish  little  nut 
without  an  ounce  of  brains,  but  that's  all  I  seem 
capable  of  doing,  as  I  have  such  an  expressionless 
countenance. 

The  whole  thing  was  written,  rehearsed  and 
acted  in  twenty-four  hours,  which  is  going  some, 
but  it  was  more  of  a  success  doing  it  quickly  that 
way. 

Aix,  March  9th,  1918. 
I  am  sitting  out  on  a  sunny  bench  in  a  comer 
of  the  Park,  waiting  for  our  15th  Infantry  col- 


82  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

ored  band  to  start  playing.  The  benches  round 
about  are  filled  with  expectant  folk,  a  real  con- 
glomeration of  French  and  Americans.  The 
paths  are  crowded  with  blesses^  some  hopping 
along  legless,  their  canes  and  crutches  making  a 
tap-tapping  on  the  gravel.  Others  are  lying  on 
the  grass,  with  one  foot  extended  and  rolled  in 
countless  bandages.  Here  and  there  our  boys 
are  playing  with  the  children,  which  is  a  habit 
they  have,  and  you  can  hear  the  cunning  little 
French  voices,  using  their  meager  supply  of  mots 
Americains. 

It's  a  warmish  day  and  the  whole  town  is  out 
enjoying  it.  Now  the  band  is  marching  up  the 
street  with  a  crowd  of  excited  small  boys  bring- 
ing up  the  rear  accompanied  of  course  by  the 
usual  swarm  of  mongrel  pups. 

These  niggers  play  in  a  way  that  would  lead 
the  worst  slacker  to  battle.  There  are  about 
thirty  of  them  and  of  course  since  they  have  been 
here  they  have  been  the  wonder  and  the  admira- 
tion of  the  townsfolk.  The  fact  that  they  can 
make  such  extraordinary  music  insures  their 
popularity  and  they  have  been  made  much  of. 
This  adulation  has  caused  these  ridiculous  nig- 
gers to  put  on  the  most  screaming  airs  and  graces. 
I  wish  you  could  at  this  moment  see  the  Major 
Domo  puffing  out  his  chest  and  waving  a  magnif- 
icent decorated  stick ! 

We're  all  pretty  sad,  as  some  of  our  boys  who 
went  back  from  here  such  a  short  time  ago  have 


AIX-LES-BAINS  83 

been  killed  in  a  recent  attack.  It  seems  only 
yesterday  that  they  waved  us  a  cheery  good-by 
and  now  —  gone,  one  can't  help  wondering  where, 
and  I  think  we  are  all  giving  more  thought  to 
that  mysterious  "  Beyond/'  as,  slowly,  one  by 
one,  those  we  know  and  love  —  pass  on.  Some- 
how, I  can't  think  of  Billy  as  dead,  or  in  any 
dark,  dismal  place;  he  was  too  sunny  and 
debonair  while  on  this  earth.  I  have  a  wonder- 
ful little  picture  of  him  standing  beside  his  aero- 
plane. Such  a  perfect,  stalwart  figure.  I  was 
reading  over  his  last  letter  yesterday,  and  think- 
ing how  lucky  I  was  to  have  had  the  influence  of 
his  life  even  for  such  a  short  time. 

I  guess  I  didn't  tell  you  that  we  have  moved, 
and  every  one  has  taken  rooms  and  apartments 
all  over  the  village.  Alice  and  I  are  established 
in  a  very  nice  clean  house  near  the  Casino.  We 
liked  rooming  together  first  rate,  but  between  us 
had  so  many  things  that  they  got  hopelessly 
mixed  and  we  ran  into  each  other,  when  not  in 
our  respective  beds!  Now  we  each  have  single 
rooms  near  each  other,  nicely  furnished,  with  a 
fine  view  and  lots  of  sunshine.  The  whole  bunch 
of  women  workers  come  here  to  the  Casino  for 
their  meals  and  it  does  remind  -me  so  much  of 
Farmington  days  —  sitting  at  a  long  table  and 
living  on  a  schedule.  We  really  have  a  very  fine 
bunch  of  women  now.  There  were  a  few  unde- 
sirables at  first  but  they  shipped  them  back 
to  PariSj  and  now  we  are  a  pretty  congenial 


84  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

crowd  and  enjoy  each  other  and  the  work  enor- 
mously. 

The  last  two  days  I  have  gone  off  on  wonder- 
ful all-day  trips  with  the  boys.  Every  excursion 
that  is  planned  includes  two  or  three  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
men  and  two  or  three  women,  and  during  the 
past  week,  work  has  been  slack  and  consequently 
it  has  been  part  of  our  duties  to  go  off  and  help 
the  boys  to  have  a  good  time.  Quite  a  pleasant 
duty  as  they  are  all  so  nice  and  eager  to  have 
us  go  along.  Yesterday  about  twenty-five  went 
in  three  motors  for  an  extraordinary  ride,  away 
up  among  the  snows.  We  stopped  at  noon  and 
ate  a  delicious  luncheon  at  a  little  village  inn,  and 
then  on  again  the  whole  of  a  glorious  sunny  af- 
ternoon, up  and  down  hill,  past  alluring  tiny  vil- 
lages, tucked  away  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains. 
The  scenery  was  too  marvelous  for  any  use  and 
the  boys  simply  couldn't  get  over  it. 

This  morning  we  started  out  at  nine-thirty, 
seventy-five  of  us  on  a  picnic.  We  walked  to  the 
lake  and  from  there  took  one  of  the  Y  motor 
boats  and  landed  away  down  the  other  end  for 
luncheon,  and  a  look  at  the  famous  monastery, 
Hautecombe  Abbey,  which  belongs  to  the  Italian 
Royal  family.  It  is  a  beautiful  and  picturesque 
old  place.  We  built  a  fire  on  the  side  of  a  hill 
overlooking  the  lake  and  roasted  hot  dogs 
(sausages).  We  had  the  usual  picnic  fare  and 
did  ample  justice  to  it.  As  I  had  rubbed  a  blis- 
ter on  my  heel  I  was  allowed  to  go  home  in  an 


AIX-LES-BAINS  85 

automobile  and  accompany  the  empty  coffee  pots 
and  food  hampers !  It  was  a  glorious  ride  as  we 
skirted  the  lake.  I  don't  believe  the  Lord  ever 
made  such  weather  before  as  we  are  having  now, 
and  Spring  seems  at  last  to  be  on  the  way  — 
the  tall  poplars  are  putting  forth  bewitching 
small  leaves  and  everything  is  so  beautiful.  I 
feel  as  though  I  should  burst. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Craig  have  arrived  here 
from  the  States  with  a  real  American  Stock  Com- 
pany. They  are  putting  on  a  series  of  New  York 
successes  and  started  off  last  night  with  "  Baby 
Mine."  Naturally  it  scored  a  tremendous  hit, 
and  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  those  boys,  rock- 
ing and  doubling  up  with  laughter.  It  was  the 
best  part  of  the  show. 

Aix-les-Bains,  March  16th,  1918. 
I  have  gotten  a  better  idea  from  your  recent 
letters  of  the  feeling  and  viewpoint  in  the  States, 
one  gets  so  out  of  touch  without  the  home  news- 
papers. I  am  thankful  that  the  country,  as  a 
whole,  is  aware  of  the  inadequate  equipment 
among  our  troops  over  here  and  that  the  lack  of 
preparedness  at  this  stage  of  the  game  is  being 
shown  up.  Here  we  run  up  against  it  all  the 
time.  Every  day  I  hear  new  stories  from  the 
boys  who  have  been  sent  into  the  lines  only  half 
equipped  and  some  without  even  overcoats,  in  this 
bitter  weather !  It  does  seem  unpardonable  that 
this  first  contingent  of  the  expeditionary  forces 


86  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

should  fall  short  on  supplies  when  you  are  all 
being  so  heavily  taxed  at  home. 

We  are  still  more  idle  than  we  want  \o  he,  but 
understand  that  next  week  the  army  is  to  begin 
granting  leaves  to  the  men  in  the  S.  O.  S.  (Ser- 
vice of  Supplies)  until  more  of  the  boys  at  the 
Front  can  be  spared.  For  the  moment,  of  course, 
no  one  from  "  out  there  "  can  think  of  anything 
besides  holding  the  Germans.  Ed  is  now,  from 
latest  reports,  absolutely  in  the  thick  of  it,  but 
as  cheerful  and  funny  as  ever. 

Please  don't  let  the  moonlight  nights  frighten 
you  on  my  account,  we  are  far  from  either  gun  or 
airship  and  in  quite  the  safest  part  of  France. 
Moonlight  nights  you  must  think  of  me  as  stand- 
ing on  my  little  balcony,  drinking  in  the  beauty 
of  these  mountains.  Naturally  my  thoughts  are 
always  up  the  line  now,  where  the  white  nights 
stand  for  such  different  and  horrible  things,  and 
my  days  seem  to  have  grown  into  one  long  silent 
prayer. 

Aix,  April  28th,  1918. 
I  had  a  bully  letter  yesterday  from  Ed  who  has 
been  sent  back  to  General  Headquarters  on  de- 
tached service.  Of  course,  he  is  perfectly  furious 
to  be  yanked  out  of  the  trenches  and  away  from 
his  men,  but  I,  for  one,  am  thankful!  There 
are  so  many  people  to  worry  about  that  it  is  a 
blessing  when  those  who  are  out  of  danger,  let 
you  know  it. 


AIX-LES-BAINS  87 

Aix,  April  30th,  1918. 

Some  days  it  seems  hard  to  realize  that  there 
is  a  war  raging  close  to  us,  so  shut  in  are  we  by 
these  mountains.  If  it  weren't  for  the  papers 
and  the  heartrending  casualty  lists,  one  might 
almost  forget  for  a  moment.  As  it  is,  the  extraor- 
dinary peace  and  quiet  make  the  Front  seem  in 
another  world  and  I  am  thankful  that  it  is  so, 
for  the  boys  who  are  here  for  their  week  of  rest 
do  get  the  complete  change  which  is  so  necessary. 

As  for  the  girls,  it  is  as  though  we  were  run- 
ning a  mammoth  house  party,  only  we  entertain 
on  schedule. 

For  instance,  each  morning  we  are  given  a  list 
of  the  different  things  that  have  been  planned 
for  us  to  do.  This  is  the  way  my  schedule  read 
to-day : 


(Names 


9  to  10:30 

Serve  at  the   Canteen. 

:30  to  12:00 

Play    tennis    with    three    men     ( 

written  below.) 

2  to  5 

Serve  at  the  Canteen. 

5  to  7 

Take  a  walk  with   (Names  given) 

7  to  11:30 

Dance. 

This  has  been  a  very  busy  day  and  some  are  not 
quite  as  full  although  we're  generally  trotting 
about  from  one  appointment  to  another  most  all 
the  time.  You  have  no  idea  how  strange  it  is  to 
do  things  like  these  "  by  order  "  and  know  that 
even  if  you  don't  feel  like  it  or  cordially  dislike 
some  of  the  men  you  are  dated  up  with,  you  have 
to  do  it  just  the  same  and  start  off  with  a  beaming 


88  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

smile,  to  laugh,  talk  and  joke  yourself  and  them 
through  three  or  four  hours  on  end !  Sometimes 
it's  pretty  hard  although  it's  the  best  training  in 
the  world,  especially  for  a  lady  with  moods  and 
who  has  been  spoiled  all  her  life  —  like  me! 
However,  if  you  could  see  how  the  boys  adore 
the  place  and  read  the  letters  that  come  after 
they  have  gone,  you  could  understand  why  the 
work  is  inspiring,  and  why  we'd  be  willing  to 
keep  it  up  night  and  day  if  it  would  make  them 
any  happier.  Lately  and  since  the  warm 
weather,  it  has  been  one  endless  round  of  pic- 
nics, motor  trips,  boating,  tennis,  games,  dances 
and  walks.  The  out-of-door  world  is  very  allur- 
ing. The  leaves  are  all  out  and  the  meadows, 
brilliant  patches  of  tiny  wild  flowers.  My  room 
looks  like  a  posy  shop.  In  a  way,  it  seems  heart- 
less to  be  enjoying  the  Spring  as  intensely  as  I 
am,  and  yet,  as  my  job  at  present  is  to  smile 
and  smile  and  keep  smiling,  I  just  naturally  have 
to  push  out  some  of  the  somber  and  the  tragic, 
fill  up  my  life  with  flowers  and  the  things  I  love, 
and  try  and  make  some  of  these  lads  forget  that 
beyond  those  hazy  blue  mountains  a  world  war 
is  raging. 

Aix,  May  10th,  1918. 

I've  been  very  busy  to-day  learning  a  new 

dance.     The  weekly  vaudeville  troop  arrived  from 

Paris  minus  one  number  and  as  Mr.  Carrell  and 

I  have  danced  on  several  Stunt  Night  programs, 


AIX-LES-BAINS  89 

they  asked  us  to  fill  in  for  the  missing  number. 
So  we  are  on  for  a  week  and  we  were  so  thankful 
that  we  had  something  that  could  be  put  right  on 
to  fill  in.  This  little  taste  of  stage  life  under 
such  delightful  auspices,  is  great  fun.  I  have  a 
dressing  room  all  my  own,  No.  5,  and  Alice  has 
been  an  angel,  acts  as  maid  and  helps  me 
change  my  costume  between  our  two  numbers. 
We  are  billed  with  the  professionals  all  over 
town,  "Miss  Baldwin  &  Mr.  Cabrbll.'-  It 
looked  too  absurd. 

I  come  on  right  after  the  "  trained  cats  "  and, 
while  waiting  in  the  wings,  dodge  the  "  snake 
charmer's  "  serpents !  She  has  two  about  twelve 
yards  long  apiece  and  they  wriggle  and  glide 
around  behind  the  stage  and  appear  suddenly  in 
the  most  unexpected  manner !  The  snake  charm- 
er keeps  them  between  times  rolled  up  neatly  in 
a  lunch  basket  with  a  cloth  drawn  tightly  over 
the  top !  One  of  the  acrobats  told  me  she  doped 
them.  Sometimes  I  get  so  interested  behind  the 
scenes  that  I  almost  forget  to  go  on  when  my 
turn  comes.  These  vaudeville  artists  are  the 
most  kind-hearted  of  mortals  and  have  been  so 
good  to  me  and  encouraged  me  in  the  nicest  way 
the  first  night,  telling  me  to  "  keep  smiling  and 
not  be  scared."  One  comedian  has  been  es- 
pecially good  to  me. —  He  white-washes  his  face 
and  w^ears  a  green  nose  and  a  suit  with  huge 
black  and  white  checks! 


90  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Aix,  May  16th,  1918. 

Now  I  can  say  that  I  have  danced  before 
royalty ! 

Last  night  we  had  a  gala  performance  for 
King  Albert  of  Belgium's  sister,  the  Duchess  of 
Vendome.  She  sat  in  the  royal  box,  with  her 
young  daughter  and  several  ladies-in-waiting. 

After  the  theater  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing her  and  she  was  most  gracious  and  kind. 
They  all  stayed  to  watch  the  usual  dancing  and 
games  and  laughed  until  the  tears  rolled  down 
their  cheeks.  You  see,  it  is  a  rather  amusing 
sight  to  watch  grown-up  men  and  women  play- 
ing kindergarten  games  and  getting  as  excited 
as  though  they  were  watching  a  bull  fight. 
Every  one  is  cheering  and  jumping  up  and  down 
and  it  is  funny. 

The  dancing  is  almost  as  humorous.  We  have 
only  twenty  girls  and  there  are  always  two 
thousand  or  more  men!  Every  time  the  whistle 
blows  they  can  "  cut  in."  The  consequence  is 
that  a  girl  is  literally  hurled  from  one  man  to 
another  while  dozens  of  eager  hands  try  and 
snatch  her  away  from  him.  Of  course  it  is  all 
pretty  rough  and  one  comes  out  of  it  every  night 
with  black  and  blue  spots,  but  how  the  boys 
enjoy  it!  Poor  dears,  the  hob-nailed  boots  were 
never  designed  for  dancing  pumps  and  the  soles 
are  so  thick  that  they  can  step  on  my  feet  and 
never  know  it  at  all !  The  other  night  after  five 
minutes  of  acute  agony  I  said  to  the  boy  I  was 


AIX-LES-BAINS  91 

dancing  with :  "  Would  you  just  as  soon  dance  on 
your  own  feet  for  a  while?  "  He  laughed  so  loud 
you  could  hear  him  all  over  the  room,  and  good- 
naturedly  did  as  I  suggested.  In  spite  of  our 
little  trials  it  is  the  most  wonderful  experience 
you  can  possibly  imagine,  and  I  never  get  over  my 
luck  in  being  here. 

Yesterday  the  biggest  of  the  Y  boats  made  her 
maiden  voyage  on  the  Lac  de  Bourget,  carrying 
all  the  Y  girls  and  about  three  hundred  soldiers. 
We  had  luncheon  on  board  and  early  in  the  after- 
noon landed  at  the  end  of  the  lake  for  a  game  of 
baseball.  It  was  a  cloudless  day  and  we  all  had 
a  ripping  time.  Walking  home  with  about  fifty 
young  gentlemen,  we  passed  one  of  the  famous 
Paris  hat  shops  ( or  a  branch  thereof ) .  I  say  we 
passed  it,  but  we  didn't  for  we  entered  en  masse 
and  I  bought  me  a  coral  pink  floppy  garden  hat ! 
I've  never  worn  such  a  color  in  my  life  but  I  am 
so  tired  of  gray  and  blue  uniforms  that  I  could 
buy  a  flame  colored  traveling  suit!  I  wear  this 
very  giddy  chapeau  when  off  duty  and  fairly 
revel  in  it! 

It's  been  a  gorgeous  warm  Sunday  and  a  busy 
one.  This  p.  m.  we  gave  the  first  of  a  series 
of  Sunday  teas.  We  had  every  imaginable  thing 
to  eat  and  drink,  served  on  the  big  terrace  of 
the  Y  Casino.  The  orchestra  played  at  one  end 
and  the  leave-men  were  there  in  full  force,  all 
beaming  and  enjoying  themselves.  I've  had  a 
very  crowded  week  and  two  young  gentlemen  to 


92  CANTEENING  OVEESEAS 

manage  who,  not  having  seen  "  an  honest-to-God 
American  girl "  or  anything  like  the  U.  S.  A.  for 
nine  months,  promptly  decided,  on  arriving  here 
that  I  was  the  "  one  and  only  "  lady  for  them ! 
I  had  an  awful  time  keeping  them  apart  as  they 
disliked  each  other  cordially !  On  the  one  occa- 
sion when  they  met  in  my  presence,  one  of  them 
generously  offered  to  "  spread  the  map  "  of  the 
other;  which,  being  interpreted,  means  either 
complete  or  partial  disfigurement  to  one  and 
sometimes  both  parties  concerned ! 

I  explained  carefully,  each  day  of  the  eight 
they  spent  here,  that  "  it  would  all  come  out  in 
the  wash  "  and  that  there  were  scores  of  deserv- 
ing females  at  home,  far  superior  to  me.  How- 
ever, the  deserving  f's  are  three  thousand  miles 
away,  so  I  was  put  to  it !  To-day  they  left,  each 
swearing  undying  devotion  and  fidelity,  and  al- 
though they  were  nice  boys,  I  find  myself  draw- 
ing a  long  sigh  of  relief! 

Aix-les-Bains,  June  7th,  1918. 
I've  had  a  flying  trip  up  to  Paris  since  I  wrote 
last,  and  had  my  first  experience  with  Big  Ber- 
tha. The  weather  was  very  hot  and  sultry  while 
I  was  there  and  each  evening  the  sun  went  down 
in  a  blaze  of  glory  leaving  a  broad  splash  of 
blood  red  in  the  sky.  The  whole  atmosphere  felt 
electric  and  decidedly  menacing.  Of  all  the  fiend- 
ish tools  and  methods  the  Boches  have  tried,  I 
think  Bertha  is  the  cleverest  and  the  most  under- 


AIX-LES-BAINS  93 

mining  to  morale.  She  runs  as  regularly  as  a 
clock.  Every  twenty  minutes  a  shell  lands  in 
some  part  of  Paris  and  spreads  death  and  de- 
struction all  about. 

As  usual  the  French  maintain  a  smiling,  calm 
exterior  and  yet  the  very  fact  that  the  guns  have 
actually  got  the  range  on  the  beloved  Paris  is  a 
bitter  and  terrible  blow.  However,  they'd  rather 
die  than  show  they  are  the  least  bit  daunted  in 
spite  of  the  latest  outrage.  It  is  interesting  to 
watch  the  people  in  the  streets,  when  a  shell  falls 
too  close  to  be  comfortable.  They  jump  a  bit, 
look  at  each  other,  laugh  and  shrug  their  shoul- 
ders, with  some  remark  about  "  how  lucky  that  it 
didn't  drop  at  our  feet,"  or  "  we  did  well  to  walk 
fast  or  we  would  surely  have  been  in  direct  line." 
Every  one  guys  the  next  person  and  so  they  walk 
on  looking  now  and  again  at  their  watches  to 
see  when  the  next  shell  is  due.  Surrounded  by 
such  spirit  and  pluck  one  simply  cannot  be  afraid, 
although  during  my  few  days  in  Paris,  Bertha 
was  booming  all  day  and  there  were  air  raids 
every  night.  However,  one  gets  accustomed  to 
anything  and  since  I  got  back  to  this  peaceful 
place,  the  intense  quiet  has  been  almost  oppres- 
sive! 

The  time  is  certainly  a  critical  one  and  al- 
though one  hears  only  scraps  and  rumors,  our 
hearts  are  in  our  mouths,  and  things  look  pretty 
black.  People  with  small  children  and  every 
one  who  could  get  away  have  left  Paris,  all  things 


94  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

of  great  value  have  been  removed  and  the  govern- 
ment offices  are  said  to  be  ready  to  move  south  at 
a  moment's  notice.  Huge  wagons  of  furniture 
and  household  goods  are  leaving  the  city  in  great 
numbers. 

This  morning's  paper  tells  of  a  German  sub- 
marine in  American  waters.  Of  course  we  are 
furious  though  hardly  surprised.  It  seems  to  be 
just  another  demonstration  of  trying  every  kind 
of  devilment  in  this  desperate  effort  to  disable  the 
Allies  from  every  angle  at  once. 

You  can  fancy  with  what  intense  interest  and 
anxiety  we  watch  for  extras  and  life  has  become 
just  one  breathless  time  of  waiting  from  one  bul- 
letin to  the  next.  Every  one  has  so  many,  many 
friends  and  relatives  on  the  long  line,  and 
hundreds  of  conflicting  rumors  and  reports  come 
in  constantly  until  one  is  distracted  for  a  bit  of 
authentic  news. 

The  Sammies  are  right  in  the  "  thick  of  it " 
now  and  doing  better,  especially  the  Marines, 
even  than  was  expected  of  them.  It's  all  very 
wonderful  and  these  days  make  one  prouder  than 
ever  of  being  an  American. 

Aix,  June  12th,  1918. 

New  York,  I  see  by  the  papers,  is  in  darkness. 
How  strange  it  must  seem  to  you  all. 

Over  here  everything  seems  to  be  happening  at 
once.  Of  course,  you  have  seen  by  now  that 
my  Marines  have  made  an  everlasting  name  for 


AIX-LES-BAINS  95 

themselves  and  that  it  looks  as  though  they  had 
turned  the  tide.  The  whole  of  France  is  ringing 
with  their  praises  and  I  am  so  proud  and  happy 
I  could  burst!  Their  extraordinary  record  of 
the  past  week  is  especially  wonderful  news  to 
those  who  know  how  patiently  they  awaited  their 
chance.  I  do  hope  they  haven't  been  unmerci- 
fully cut  to  pieces.  The  interest  in  every  tiny 
village  about  here  is  intense,  especially  now  that 
the  new  offensive  has  started  on  the  American 
Front.  I  am  of  course  very  keen  to  get  up  nearer 
the  lines,  and  perhaps  before  long  I  shall  have  a 
chance. 

Do  write  about  things  at  home  and  how  people 
are  standing  the  terrible  casualty  lists.  We  hear 
absolutely  nothing  of  home  morale,  I  suppose  be- 
cause we  are  so  put  to  it  to  keep  up  our  own. 
I  believe  you  really  get  more  news  of  the  grim 
doings  up  the  line  than  we  do,  and  probably  real- 
ize as  much  as  we  that  the  climax  is  rapidly  ap- 
proaching. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR 

Paris,  June  28th,  1918. 

Don't  be  surprised  at  the  heading  on  this 
letter,  I  am  quite  safe  and  sound  and  haven't  been 
expelled  from  the  Y !  I  am,  however,  on  my  way 
to  a  new  post  and  one  which  ought  to  be  most 
interesting.  In  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  they  try  and 
move  you  ever  so  often,  to  keep  you  from  going 
stale  on  the  work.  The  other  day  our  chief  came 
down  to  Aix  and  decided  that  four  of  us  who 
had  been  there  five  months  needed  a  change  o'f 
work.  Consequently,  Alice,  two  others,  and 
yours  truly  are  here  for  reassignment. 

The  strain  of  Leave-Area  work,  the  continual 
entertaining  is  really  worse  than  manual  labor, 
and  I  can  see  that  we  need  to  get  off  for  a  time. 
The  change  is  for  the  sake  of  greater  efficiency 
in  the  work,  and  naturally  that's  what  we  all 
want  and  are  working  towards. 

Paris  is  terribly  quiet.  No  Bertha  —  no 
bombs  —  I  scarcely  know  it ! 

En  Route  from  Paris  to  Baccarat, 

July  3rd,  1918. 
Behold  us  actually  on  our  way  to  what  the 
Paris  Office  calls  "an  unusual  and  most  inter- 

06 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  97 

esting  post "  and  after  days  of  red  tape  and  or- 
ders, we  are  at  last  on  the  train  which  will  take 
us  via  ChMons,  Nancy  and  Lun6ville, —  names 
that  have  become  so  famous  of  late  and  which 
fill  us  with  a  vague  feeling  of  thrill  as  though 
at  last  we  were  to  get  a  bit  closer  to  those 
trenches  of  which  we  have  heard  so  much.  I 
don't  want  you  to  think  that  we  are  looking  for- 
ward to  our  work  as  an  exciting  adventure. 
Nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  ideal  for 
which  we  are  striving,  but  of  course  one  can't 
help  but  be  thankful  for  the  great  privilege  which 
has  come  after  so  many  months  of  waiting,  and 
our  spirits  are  high  and  somehow  I  feel  as  though 
I  were  opening  the  door  to  greater  service  and 
opportunity  than  ever  before. 

Our  train  has  jogged  along  through  this  hot 
day,  stopping  here  and  there  in  an  aimless  way 
as  if  to  get  its  breath  and  mop  its  brow  before 
starting  on  through  the  baked  and  sultry  coun- 
tryside. Of  course,  we  haven't  missed  a  trick  and 
at  Chalons  and  Nancy  saw  the  first  signs  of 
wreckage  and  ruin. 

It  is  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  We  are  on 
the  last  lap  of  our  long  journey,  having  just  left 
Lun^ville.  Before  long,  we  shall  be  in  Baccarat, 
where  the  Y  Headquarters  for  this  region  are 
situated.  This  Vosges  country  is  exquisite  al- 
though the  small  villages  show  terrible  signs  of 
demolition.    The  Germans  have  been  here, — it 


98  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

is  easy  enough  to  see  that  —  although  a  peasant 
woman  in  our  compartment  says,  "  not  since 
1914,"  except,  she  adds,  "  les  avions/'  which 
have  made  night  hideous  ever  since. 

It  begins  to  look  more  warlike.  The  roads  are 
covered  with  cleverly  made  camouflage  and  the 
small  houses  near  the  rail  heads  are  painted  in 
patterns  of  bright  colors.  The  open  cars  that 
carry  the  great  guns  are  entirely  draped  with 
these  wonderfully  wrought  coverings  of  leaves 
and  vines  made  of  ancient  rags  and  scraps  and 
tinted  in  the  most  realistic  shades  and  tones. 
Few  women  are  traveling  this  way  and  our  uni- 
forms and  American  accent  cause  great  interest 
at  the  small  stations  along  the  way. 

Baccarat,  July  4th,  1918. 

We  arrived  last  night  at  about  seven  o'clock 
but  it  was  still  light  enough  to  see  the  town  which 
is  mostly  a  heap  of  crumbling  stone  and  ruin. — 
The  main  street  hasn't  a  building  that  is  whole. 
Awful  as  it  seems,  it  is  wonderfully  beauti- 
ful. The  dust  is  thick  and  the  wind  blows  it 
about  in  sheets.  The  sun  was  just  setting,  giv- 
ing a  blood-red  background  to  the  ruined  walls 
and  turrets.  It  reminded  me  of  those  ominous, 
realistic  posters,  which  are  everywhere  showing 
the  wreckage  of  war.  Up  to  that  moment,  they 
had  seemed  an  exaggeration. 

I  am  at  present  writing  amidst  great  confusion. 
Of  course  there  not  being  many  houses  intact, 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  99 

the  billets  are  few  and  far  between.  So,  for  the 
moment,  the  four  of  us  are  making  ourselves  com- 
fortable in  a  small  hotel  which  the  Y  has  just 
taken  over  to  be  used  as  main  Canteen,  ware- 
house, and  general  offices.  This  delectable  spot 
is  entirely  whole  but,  as  it  hasn't  been  used  for 
three  years,  is  in  a  state  of  dirt  impossible  to 
describe.  The  four  of  us  —  that  is,  Alice, 
Westy,  Squibby  and  I  —  have  taken  one  room 
with  two  beds  and  a  bureau  in  it  and  are  pro- 
ceeding to  get  settled.  The  windows  have  to  be 
open  for  air  and  as  the  street  below  is  the  route 
used  to  the  Front,  the  traffic  of  trucks  and  am- 
munition carts  is  terrific.  The  dust  and  flies 
blow  into  our  room  in  great  clouds  and  we  are 
covered  from  head  to  foot  with  grime  and  dirt. 
However,  we  are  getting  our  various  blanket 
rolls  and  bags  unpacked  and  will  be  in  some  sort 
of  order  before  night. 

I  would  give  my  eye-tooth  for  a  bowl  of  hot 
water,  a  clean  towel  and  some  soap.  But  water 
is  hard  to  procure  and  there  is  nothing  to  get  it 
in  or  pour  it  into  for  the  moment!  So  I  will 
have  to  go  dirty  I  guess. 

Early  this  morning  we  went  to  mass;  as 
Alice  was  going.  I  am  thankful  that  we  tagged 
along.  The  Catholic  Church  here,  as  in  every 
place  in  France,  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  the 
village,  and  the  nucleus  around  which  everything 
revolves.  The  building  isi  quite  lovely.  Very 
simple  in  architecture  but  beautiful  lines  and  a 


100  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

few  good  statues.  It  is  almost  entirely  intact 
although  it  stands  in  the  center  of  the  most 
ruined  part  of  the  town ! 

When  we  went  in,  I  was  staggered  at  the  huge 
congregation.  Then  I  saw  that  the  church  was 
entirely  filled  with  American  soldiers.  We  were 
the  only  women. 

The  early  morning  sunlight  was  streaming 
through  the  stained  glass  windows  and  lighting 
up  hundreds  of  bowed  heads.  There  wasn't  a 
sound  but  the  soft  notes  of  the  organ.  I  never 
knew  how  expressive  the  back  of  a  man's  head 
could  be.  All  these  boys  so  terribly  intent  upon 
mass  that  was  being  said  in  a  language  few  of 
them  could  understand,  and  yet  the  great  com- 
mon bond  of  religion  that  goes  deeper  than  mere 
spoken  words,  had  drawn  them  together,  as 
though  they  realized  it  might  be  their  last  chance 
to  pray  in  God's  house.  I  can't  begin  to  explain 
the  effect  it  had  on  me.  In  the  few  moments  of 
quiet  before  the  service  was  over,  the  air  seemed 
alive  with  fragments  of  prayer  and  in  the  intense, 
vibrating  stillness,  I  have  never  felt  God  nearer. 

It  was  a  sweet  way  to  start  my  new  work  and 
somehow  I  feel  as  though  I  could  move  moun- 
tains. 

Baccarat,  July  10th,  1918. 
The  other  girls  have  been  stationed  in  three 
little  villages  near  by  and  I  have  been  kept  here 
in  Baccarat  where,  for  the  present,  I  have  a  can- 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  101 

teen  of  my  own  in  what  is  called  the  French  half 
of  the  town,  the  other  half  being  entirely  occu- 
pied by  the  Headquarters  staff  of  the  Division  to 
which  we  are  attached.  There  is  already  a  Y 
canteen  started  over  there  so  I  am  installing  my- 
self in  what  was  a  corner  saloon,  the  dirtiest, 
darkest  place  imaginable  with  very  un-Y-like 
ribald  scenes  on  the  walls.  I  hope  we  can  put 
a  coat  of  light  colored  paint  on  the  somber  wood- 
work and  brighten  it  up  a  bit.  In  spite  of  its 
unattractive  appearance  it  is  always  full  of 
soldiers  and  when  I  appear  early  in  the  morning 
with  my  mammoth  key,  there  is  always  a  long 
line  of  boys  waiting  for  me  to  open  up  shop. 
This  isn't  to  be  my  permanent  job;  I  am  going 
to  help  run  the  canteen  in  the  Y  Hotel  as  soon  as 
it  is  opened.  It  will  undoubtedly  be  much 
larger  than  this  one  and  we  shall  be  able  to  take 
care  of  more  men. 

I  have  procured  an  excellent  billet  in  the  house 
of  an  ancient  French  lady.  My  room  is  beauti- 
fully clean  and  scoured  daily  by  my  landlady's 
maid  "  Josephine  "  who  looks  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty.  These  two  old  dames  remained  in 
Baccarat  all  during  the  German  invasion  in  1914 
and  a  German  general  slept  in  my  room ;  it  ought 
to  give  me  bad  dreams  but  somehow  I  manage  to 
sleep  like  a  log !  Madame  M.  is  a  lady  of  some 
social  position  in  these  parts,  shown  by  the  fact 
that  she  has  a  servant  to  look  after  her  and  a 
little  plot  of  ground  behind  her  house  where  grow 


102  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

the  most  bewitching  old-fashioned  flowers.  She 
has  snow-white  hair  and  large  brown  eyes  that 
always  wear  a  half  frightened  look,  as  well  they 
may,  for  the  death-dealing  German  planes 
have  harassed  this  poor  soul  night  and  day  for 
four  years.  She  told  me  that  in  1914  she  and  her 
faithful  old  servant  were  among  the  very  few  who 
remained  in  their  little  town.  She  said  "  Mais, 
mademoiselle,  I  could  not  leave  my  little  house, 
the  home  where  my  husband  had  lived  and  died 
and  which  held  all  the  beautiful  memories  of  my 
life.  I  had  heard  of  course  what  those  '  sales 
Boches '  had  done  to  the  old  women  and  the 
children  in  the  town  near  here  but  as  I  said  to 
Josephine  '  I  will  take  my  chance  with  the  Ger- 
mans, but  leave  my  house,  never ! ' "  So  the 
entire  population  of  the  town  was  hustled  into 
safety  and  very  few  civilians  remained  to  see 
their  homes  demolished.  The  French  soldiers 
knew  they  were  outnumbered  and  yet  that  didn't 
keep  them  from  fighting  to  the  last  ditch  and  for 
four  days  the  terrible  massacre  continued  and  the 
town  was  shelled  unmercifully.  Madame  and 
Josephine,  hidden  in  the  cellar,  heard  the  whistle 
of  shells  and  the  explosions  all  around  until  it 
seemed  a  miracle  that  the  roof  wasn't  torn  off 
their  house  and  that  the  brick  walls  didn't  fall 
in  on  top  of  them.  The  Germans  finally  ad- 
vanced to  the  edge  of  the  river  which  separates 
the  two  parts  of  the  town  and  then  it  became  a 
hand-to-hand  affair  until  a  huge  shell  burst  in 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  103 

the  center  of  the  bridge,  blowing  to  atoms  several 
hundred  French  soldiers  who  were  attempting 
to  hold  it  against  the  enemy.  Madame  says  the 
river  was  filled  with  floating  bodies  and  red  with 
blood  for  days  afterwards.  The  Germans  threw 
a  hurriedly  constructed  passageway  of  boards 
across  the  stream  and  only  then  did  the  French 
retire  to  the  country  directly  behind  Baccarat, 
outnumbered  three  or  four  times  by  the  advanc- 
ing Boches.  Suddenly,  the  shelling  ceased  and 
Madame  knew  that  the  enemy  had  been  victori- 
ous. She  said,  "  I  took  my  courage  in  my  hands ; 
I  put  on  my  Sunday  dress  of  black  silk;  then 
walked  out  of  my  door  with  my  head  high  and  met 
the  German  staff  oflBcers  as  they  came  up  the 
street."  I  could  visualize  it  all.  The  stern  hard 
faces  of  the  Boche  staff,  their  horses  brought  to  a 
sudden  stop  before  the  house  of  this  ancient  sil- 
ver-haired gentlewoman  who  stood  on  her  own 
door  step  indomitable  and  unafraid  before  what 
she  knew  were  the  most  bestial  and  heartless 
brutes  in  all  history.  Somehow  something  must 
have  touched  them,  although  it  is  hard  to  believe 
that  they  possess  a  single  chord  that  can  be 
touched  by  the  big  and  noble.  However,  she 
told  me  that  they  didn't  molest  or  hurt  her  in 
any  way  and  finally  when  they  were  forced  to 
retire  after  some  months  by  the  then  victorious 
French,  they  thanked  her  for  her  hospitality. 

Since  then,  she  has  had  French  officers  billeted 
in  her  house  and  one  or  two  Americans  who  won 


104  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

her  old  heart  with  boxes  of  chocolate  and  little 
packages  of  sweet  cookies,  such  as  she  hasn't  had 
since  the  beginning  of  the  war. 

Baccarat,  July  15th,  1918. 

I  am  now  working  in  the  big  new  canteen  at 
Headquarters,  and  believe  me,  it  is  one  busy 
place.  I'm  on  duty  only  eight  hours  a  day  but 
during  that  time  I  work  like  mad  and  scarcely 
have  time  to  breathe.  There  is  a  line  that  files 
in  and  past  our  counter  and  then  out  through  a 
farther  door.  That  line  never  stops  from  the 
time  we  are  open  in  the  morning  until  it  gets 
dark  at  night.  I  am  kept  hopping  like  a  grass- 
hopper and  bed  looks  pretty  good  to  me  at  the 
end  of  the  day.  It's  a  fine  life  though,  just 
work  and  food  and  sleep  and  I  am  thriving  and 
growing  fat  on  it ! 

We  are  at  present  attached  to  the  77th  Division 
which  is,  as  you  know,  the  New  York  drafted 
bunch.  It  is,  I  believe,  a  unique  division  and  to 
me  a  most  interesting  one.  It  looks  as  though 
they  had  taken  a  cross  section  of  New  York  City 
and  divided  it  into  Battalions,  Regiments,  Com- 
panies and  all  the  different  units  and  branches  of 
the  service  which  go  to  make  up  a  division.  The 
officers  are  almost  entirely  from  the  "  four 
hundred  "  so  called,  and  the  enlisted  men  from 
the  lower  East  Side,  Italians,  Polish  Jews, 
Greeks,  Serbs,  in  fact,  representatives  from  most 
every  country  in  the  world.     Many  of  them  can't 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  105 

even  speak  English  intelligibly  and  I  have  been 
thankful  for  my  scraps  of  Italian,  French  and 
even  German  to  make  them  understand  me. 
They  are  a  ferocious  looking  lot  for  the  most 
part  and  always  sure  that  I  am  trying  to  skin 
them.  It's  rather  pathetic  and  I  try  to  be  patient 
and  make  them  understand  that  the  Y  may  have 
made  mistakes  unintentionally  but  that  we  are 
not  in  France  to  profiteer.  It's  a  bit  discour- 
aging at  the  end  of  a  long  hot  day  to  have  some 
boy  throw  the  change  you  have  given  him  down 
on  the  counter  and  announce  in  a  loud  voice 
that  the  "  Y  girl  "  is  trying  to  cheat  him.  They 
haven't  learned  the  value  of  French  money,  not 
having  been  over  here  long  and  are  tremendously 
suspicious  of  what  they  call  "  that  tin  Chinese 
money"  (the  French  have  punctured  their 
smaller  coins  in  the  center  in  order  to  save 
metal )  and  are  always  sure  that  you  are  trying  to 
put  something  over  on  them.  However,  there 
are  many  who  make  up  for  the  disagreeable 
ones.  Two  or  three  Irish  lads  with  merry  blue 
eyes  and  the  most  alluring  of  brogues  are  gener- 
ally hanging  over  the  end  of  the  counter  and  are 
very  much  my  friends.  They  are  always  right 
on  the  spot  when  there  is  a  case  of  tobacco  to  be 
opened  or  heavy  things  to  lift  and  have  even 
helped  me  squeeze  lemons!  The  work  is  a  never 
ceasing  joy  to  me  on  account  of  these  bright 
spots  and  many  others  that  turn  up  constantly  to 
make  me  happier  than  I  have  ever  been  in  my 


106  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

life.  No  one  who  hasn't  tried  it,  knows  what  a 
satisfaction  a  long  day's  work  can  bring.  Thank 
God  for  the  opportunity. 

Baccarat,  July  20th,  1918. 

The  American  "  come-back "  at  Chateau 
Thierry,  beginning  day  before  yesterday,  is,  of 
course,  the  one  subject  of  conversation  here.  No 
words  can  describe  one's  pride  and  relief.  Our 
boys  have  made  themselves  immortal.  France 
will  never  forget  their  grit  and  pluck  —  quali- 
ties characteristically  American. 

Yesterday  Elsie  Janis  came  here  and  gave  two 
shows  so  that  no  one  should  miss  seeing  her. 
The  Y  has  taken  over  a  big  assembly  hall  and 
turned  it  into  a  theater.  Well,  I  can  assure  you 
that  every  inch  of  that  place  was  utilized.  The 
boys  had  known  for  some  days  ahead  that  she 
was  coming  and,  hours  before  the  doors  were 
opened,  the  open  space  in  front  of  the  building 
was  massed  solid.  Every  one  was  looking  up  at 
the  clear  sky  and  hoping  that  "  Jerry  would  give 
us  a  rest  to-night  and  let  us  enjoy  Elsie  without 
thought  of  bombs."  Luckily,  Jerry  didn't  start 
his  evening  strafing  until  just  as  the  last  show 
was  out  and  then  every  one  had  ample  time  to 
run  to  shelter  before  the  noise  began.  If  he  had 
known  how  many  human  birds  he  could  have 
killed  with  "  one  stone,"  he  undoubtedly  would 
have  made  an  earlier  start  from  Boche-land  and 
dropped  a  neat  little  bomb  right  on  the  center 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  107 

of  our  theater  roof !  However,  for  once  he  didn't 
spoil  our  fun,  and  Elsie  was  quite  at  her  best 
and  more  alluring  and  pepi)y  than  ever,  in  the 
latest  of  Parisian  models  and  a  coquettish  black 
tarn  with  a  tassel  pulled  down  over  her  curls. 
Suddenly  there  she  was,  in  the  middle  of  the 
stage  and  to  these  boys  to  whom  the  white  lights 
of  Broadway  have  been  the  breath  of  life,  she 
seemed  a  veritable  piece  of  "little  old  New 
York."  I  thought  they  would  tear  the  roof  off 
with  their  wild  applause  and  cheers,  and  she  just 
stood  there  smiling  until  they  had  yelled  them- 
selves hoarse.  Then  for  an  hour  and  a  half  she 
kept  them  rocking  with  laughter  and  once  or 
twice  brought  them  very  close  to  tears.  She 
sang,  she  danced,  told  funny  stories  and  made 
fun  of  the  officers  and  mimicked  in  her  inimitable 
way  until  those  boys  were  bodily  transported 
from  that  dusty  little  French  town,  back  to  the 
atmosphere  which  spells  home  to  them.  In  other 
words,  for  an  hour  and  a  half  they  forgot  the  war 
and  were  happy.  Surely  Elsie  Janis  is  doing 
her  bit  if  any  one  is,  and  it's  a  jolly  big  bit  too ! 
The  whole  world  seems  to  be  in  France,  at 
least  the  masculine  half  of  it.  I  meet  so  many 
men  I  know  wherever  I  go.  Baccarat  hasn't  been 
an  exception  to  the  rule.  Some  have  been  to  Aix, 
some  I  knew  in  Bordeaux  and  some  at  home  — 
centuries  ago  before  the  war.  A  great  friend  of 
Ted's  and  of  my  Buffalo  friends,  Chester  Plimp- 
ton, is  here,  and  I  see  a  good  deal  of  him.     Such 


108  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

a  hash  in  a  town  like  this  and  such  types !  I  wish 
you  could  see  one  little  Jewish  second  lieuten- 
ant. He  is  the  laugh  of  the  whole  place  and  the 
boys  tell  me  that  if  you  were  to  slice  him  in  half 
you  would  find  a  broad  yellow  streak  from  his 
head  to  his  heels.  Aside  from  that  he  is  the 
most  absurd  little  snob.  Five  minutes  after  he 
had  met  me  he  said,  "  Are  you  one  of  the  Bald- 
wins of  New  York?  "  I  said  I  hoped  I  was  and 
since  then  he  has  decided  I  was  worth  knowing 
and  I  had  a  wonderful  time  kidding  him  without 
his  catching  on  at  all!  I  can't  quite  make  out 
whether  he  has  me  associated  in  his  mind  with  the 
Baldwin  Locomotive  or  the  Piano,  and  perhaps 
he  thinks  the  Apple  was  named  after  Dad!  He 
talks  with  a  studied  carelessness  about  "  my 
friend  Teddy  Roosevelt "  and  "  When  I  visited 
Vincent  Astor  last  summer,  etc."  The  other  of- 
ficers just  draw  him  out  and  then  go  into  hys- 
terics and  laugh  till  the  tears  roll  down  their 
cheeks  and  the  poor  little  nut  talks  on  and  on. 
Some  day  I  shall  mention  casually  that  my 
mother  is  a  washlady  and  my  father  a  green 
grocer.  He  swallows  everything  whole,  bait, 
hook  et  tout!  He  is  a  stage  manager  in  the 
States  and  I'll  bet  my  bottom  dollar  that  he 
wears  a  checked  suit,  a  brown  derby  and  button 
boots ! 

Baccarat,  July  24th,  1918. 
A  wonderful  moon  to-night  and  the  country 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  109 

side  transformed  under  its  silvery  radiance.  We 
have  had  terrible  nights  for  a  week  now  and  we 
are  all  more  or  less  worn  out  with  little  sleep  and 
long  hot  days.  The  German  planes  have  been 
coming  over  as  regularly  as  clock  work  and  as 
this  sector  is  unimportant  compared  to  others 
farther  up  the  line,  we  aren't  really  protected  at 
all.  An  English  aeroplane  field  lies  some  miles 
in  the  country  behind  us  and  they  do  what  they 
can  to  help  drive  off  the  enemy  planes  but  they 
aren't  able  to  accomplish  much  as  they  have  a 
huge  area  to  cover  and  very  little  equipment. 

I  thought  I  knew  what  an  air  raid  was  like 
after  being  in  Paris  for  six  months,  but  in  com- 
parison, those  raids  seem  like  mere  child's  play. 
Ever  since  the  moon  was  two  days  old,  the  Ger- 
mans haven't  missed  a  single  night  and  as  soon 
as  it  gets  dark,  we  hear  the  ominous  whirr.  At 
once  the  peace  and  quiet  evaporate  as  if  by  magic 
and  the  whole  atmosphere  becomes  alive  with  ex- 
pectation and  silent  fears.  The  church  bell  is 
set  ringing  furiously  and  the  doleful  sirens  begin 
their  wailing  from  several  parts  of  the  town  at 
once.  Windows  are  thrown  open  and  people  be- 
gin to  call  back  and  forth  to  each  other.  This 
lasts  only  a  few  moments  and  then  complete 
and  utter  silence.  Every  one  has  gone  below 
ground  and  the  town  lies  waiting  in  the  moon- 
light. 

At  first  I  refused  to  take  refuge  "  dans  la  cave  " 
(the  cellar)  partly  because  I  didn't  want  to  be 


110  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

smothered  to  death  beneath  the  plaster  and  brick 
walls  of  the  house.  A  direct  hit  seemed  infi- 
nitely preferable  to  that,  also,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  I  had  no  desire  to  get  out  of  bed.  I  had 
lost  so  much  sleep  and  had  been  working  so  hard, 
that  night  generally  found  me  thankful  for  a 
bed.  Even  if  the  noise  of  guns  kept  me  awake  I 
could  rest,  and  the  moist,  chilly  cellar  held  no 
charms!  However,  I  found  that  staying  "  au 
lit "  in  the  midst  of  an  air  raid  was  unheard  of 
in  these  parts  and  Madame  M.  rushed  into  my 
room  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  implored  me  to 
accompany  her  below.  The  poor  little  old  lady 
fears  the  avians  above  all  else  and  the  sound  of 
their  motors  drives  her  into  a  frenzy  of  fear.  In 
order  to  calm  her  I  threw  on  a  few  clothes  and 
we  stumbled  down  the  narrow  stairs  and  spent 
the  dark  hours  huddled  in  a  little  group  around 
a  candle  that  sputtered  and  flickered  in  the 
draughty,  damp  air.  Our  party  consists  always 
of  Madame,  Josephine,  a  French  officer,  who  is 
likewise  billeted  in  the  house,  and  myself.  The 
first  night  that  we  spent  in  the  cellar,  he  was  al- 
ready below  when  we  ladies  arrived.  I  have 
never  seen  a  more  droll  figure  and  I  wonder  now 
how  I  ever  kept  my  face  straight.  He  was  attired 
in  pink  and  white  pajamas  and  on  his  head  at  a 
jaunty  angle  sat  his  most  dressy  uniform  cap  cov- 
ered with  gold  braid  and  pale  blue  broadcloth! 
Undoubtedly  he  felt  it  added  dignity  and  a  cer- 
tain modesty  to  his  appearance.     As  we  came 


BACCARAT.   EN  ROUTE  TO  THE  CAXTKKN. 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  111 

down  he  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  mud  floor 
in  his  bai'e  feet!  He  told  me  that  he  had  been 
through  four  years  of  war,  had  seen  comrades 
blown  to  atoms  right  beside  him.  "  I  know  what 
these  bombs  can  do,  I  have  seen  with  my  two 
eyes,  it  is  folly  not  to  seek  shelter  in  a  raid,  so 
when  I  hear  the  Boches  coming,  I  leap  from  my 
bed  et  je  me  sauve,  Mademoiselle/^  I  felt  that  he 
was  right  and  that  the  French  must  be  thinking 
some  of  us  very  children  who  are  still  taking 
war  as  a  game,  and  looking  upon  our  folly  and 
daring  as  bravery.  Surely  no  one  has  any  busi- 
ness to  waste  his  life.  For  the  first  and  perhaps 
the  last  time  our  lives  are  infinitely  important 
and  useful. 

This  officer  is  really  a  very  good  sort  and  en- 
tertains us  during  the  long  hours  with  tales  of 
all  sorts.  We  discuss  the  war  at  great  length 
and  try  and  keep  our  minds  occupied  and  off  of 
the  terrible  sounds  overhead.  It's  great  for  my 
French  and  I  am  improving.  Sometimes  the 
noise  is  deafening,  the  anti-air-craft  guns  keep 
up  a  continuous  fire  and  yet  the  Germans  don't 
seem  to  be  the  least  bit  daunted  and  fly  just 
above  the  tops  of  the  trees,  placing  their  bombs 
with  the  most  pitiless  accuracy.  Last  night  three 
houses  in  this  neighborhood  were  hit  and  in  the 
old  mill,  half  a  block  away,  a  young  woman  and 
her  little  girl  were  killed.  It  was  a  ghastly  few 
hours.  Madame  had  one  fit  of  hysterics  right 
after  another  and  threw  herself  about  the  cellar 


112  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

in  a  spasm  of  fear,  trembling  violently  and  moan- 
ing and  crying.  It  was  one  of  the  most  pathetic 
and  terrible  sights  I  have  ever  seen.  We  tried  to 
quiet  her  but  as  the  bombs  were  literally  falling 
all  about  us,  there  wasn't  much  one  could  say 
to  cheer  her.  When  one  plane  had  dropped  its 
supply  of  horror  it  would  dash  back  and  in  ten 
minutes  another  would  be  swooping  and  sailing 
above  us  and  the  crash  and  uproar  would  begin 
again.  In  order  that  they  may  see  better  to  do 
their  hideous  work,  they  drop  a  flare  which  illum- 
inates the  town  as  though  it  were  day.  By  the 
time  the  strong  light  has  burned  itself  out  sev- 
eral bombs  can  be  neatly  placed. 

The  raid  generally  begins  about  nine  o'clock 
and  the  planes  come  over  in  rapid  succession  un- 
til dawn.  It  is  extraordinary  what  an  effect  the 
sound  of  the  German  motor  has  upon  one.  The 
noise  even  at  a  great  distance  will  wake  me  out 
of  a  sound  sleep  whereas  our  own  planes  can  fly 
right  past  my  window  and  I  never  know  it. 

This  morning  the  town  is  really  upset.  Last 
night's  raid  was  the  worst  yet.  Two  of  our  sol- 
diers in  the  Evacuation  Hospital  were  killed  and 
a  great  number  of  French.  A  bomb  lit  across 
the  street  from  the  Y  and  this  morning  I  found 
all  my  canteen  windows  smashed  into  a  thousand 
pieces.  The  Boches  dropped  several  notes  all 
over  the  streets  written  in  French  which  said 
"  If  you  think  last  night's  raid  a  bad  one,  wait 
for  to-night.    We  will  break  all  records."    The 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  113 

consequence  is  that  the  morale  is  not  very  good, 
every  one  worn  out  with  no  sleep,  horror  piled 
on  horror,  and  the  anticipation  of  worse  things 
to-night. 

Later  —  Same  day. 

To-day  is  a  sizzler,  quite  the  worse  we've  had. 
The  dust  pours  in  at  the  windows  and  the  can- 
teen is  black  with  flies.  We've  been  making  lem- 
onade for  hundreds  of  hot,  tired  soldiers.  They 
come  in  white  with  dust  and  the  perspiration 
running  down  their  cheeks.  No  cotton  uniforms 
to  be  issued  this  summer ;  the  boys  have  to  wear 
their  woolly  w^inter  ones,  poor  darlings,  and 
can't  even  take  their  blouses  off.  The  result  is 
that  if  this  weather  continues  the  entire  A.  E.  F. 
will  be  reduced  to  a  grease  spot ! 

We  have  made  a  hundred  and  sixty  liters  of 
lemonade  to-day;  the  canteen  has  been  jammed 
to  the  doors  since  early  morning  with  men, 
tongues  hanging  out  and  clammering  for  some- 
thing "  cold  and  wet."  The  boys  stand  around 
in  a  huge  ring  while  we  make  the  lemonade,  of- 
fering all  kinds  of  advice  and  suggestions ;  I  have 
quite  a  time  keeping  them  on  the  other  side  of  the 
counter;  they  all  want  to  help  but  we  can't  use 
more  than  three  stalwart  and  professional  lemon 
squeezers!  When  the  huge  tank  is  finally  filled, 
there  are  loud  cheers  from  all  present  and  it  is 
worth  anything  to  see  the  gusto  with  which  they 
dispatch  the  lemonade  down  their  dusty  throats. 


114  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

How  I  love  this  place, —  it's  perfectly  great  be- 
ing attached  to  a  division. 

Westy,  Alice,  Squibby,  who  have  canteens  in 
little  villages  nearby,  are  in  here  quite  frequently 
and  we  compare  notes  and  discuss  methods,  and 
our  various  problems  at  length.  I  imagine  some 
of  us  will  shortly  be  sent  back  to  Aix  as  our 
month  of  change  is  nearing  its  end.  I  can't  tell 
you  how  I  hate  the  thought  of  leaving,  although 
of  course  I  want  to  be  where  I  am  most  needed. 
The  simplicity  of  this  place  is  a  great  contrast 
to  Aix  and  does  appeal  to  me  so  much  more  than 
the  gay  whirl  down  there  with  the  Casino  and  all 
its  marble  halls  and  broad  terraces.  There  the 
boys  come  and  go  and  you  do  all  you  can  to  cheer 
them,  but  here  they  aren't  on  leave  and  are  up 
against  the  real  thing,  and,  if  possible,  need  a 
bit  of  feminine  companionship  more  than  any- 
where else.  Also  one  belongs  to  a  unit  and  after 
a  while  you  come  to  feel  a  very  distinct  sense  of 
proprietorship,  your  hopes  and  fears  and  special 
prayers  are  centered  about  the  men  of  your  out- 
fit and  their  failures  and  successes  are  very  much 
your  own.  O !  I  do  hope  that  the  Y  will  let  me 
stay  right  where  I  am.  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  of  course  to  be  a  good  soldier  whatever 
comes,  but  I  am  hoping,  hoping  hard  every  min- 
ute that  I  shall  be  allowed  to  stay. 

Baccarat,  July  25th,  1918. 
Last  night  right  after  the  canteen  closed,  some 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  115 

of  us  decided  to  walk  out  to  a  neighboring  hill- 
side and  watch  the  expected  raid  from  a  dis- 
tance. We  knew  we  should  be  up  all  night  any- 
way and  all  had  grown  a  bit  weary  of  their  re- 
spective cellars  and  dugouts. 

It  was  the  most  gorgeous  night  I  have  ever 
seen,  a  full  moon  which  eliminated  practically  all 
the  stars  with  its  brilliance.  We  climbed  up  and 
up  through  the  silvery  woods  and  at  last  reached 
the  summit.  Nearby  was  an  enormous  natural 
grotto  cut  out  of  the  side  of  the  hill.  We  sud- 
denly realized  that  the  place  was  full  of  people; 
their  voices  could  be  heard  distinctly  and  walk- 
ing to  the  entrance  of  the  cave  we  looked  in. 
About  fifteen  or  twenty  families  had  settled  them- 
selves for  the  night.  The  ground  was  covered 
with  blankets  upon  which  lay  sleeping  children 
of  all  ages.  Some  of  the  babies  didn't  look  more 
than  a  few  weeks  old.  Here  and  there  at  the 
back  of  the  cave  were  lights ;  near  the  mouth  one 
could  see  quite  plainly.  There  were  almost  no 
men,  just  mothers  w^ho  had  brought  their  little 
ones  away  from  the  menaced  town. 

We  sat  near  the  cave  for  hours,  looking  down 
on  the  roofs  of  Baccarat,  the  river  glistening  be- 
low us  in  the  moonlight.  It  was  all  marvelously 
beautiful,  utter  silence  everywhere.  As  I  say, 
we  sat  there  for  hours.  The  Germans  didn't 
come.  They  didn't  have  to.  Those  diabolical 
notes  of  warning  had  spoiled  the  peace  of  mind 
of  the  whole  town.    It  had  sent  the  anxious 


116  CANTEENING  OVEKSEAS 

young  mothers  with  their  babies  to  sleep  in  the 
woods  and  the  hilltops  expecting  to  find  their 
homes  smashed  to  atoms  on  their  return.  Those 
who  stayed  in  the  town  spent  the  night  straining 
their  ears  for  the  dreaded  sound  and  scanning 
the  heavens  for  the  enemy  that  had  warned  them 
of  his  coming.  The  suspense  was  even  worse 
than  if  he  had  come.  Is  there  anything  those 
keen,  heartless  Germans  have  not  thought  of  to 
torture  the  minds  and  bodies  of  this  harassed 
people ! 

To-day  every  one  is  worn  to  a  frazzle  from 
apprehension  and  nervous  exhaustion  and  un- 
doubtedly to-night  will  bring  a  fleet  of  enemy 
planes.  But,  as  these  heroic  souls  say,  "  one 
must  be  patient,  c'est  la  Guerre." 

Baccarat,  August  5th,  1918. 
Since  my  last  letter  there  have  been  great 
changes.  In  fact,  the  77th  Division  was  ordered 
up  the  line  and  moved  out  bodily  within  a  few 
daj'^s.  The  37th  Division  (Ohio  National  Guard) 
had  replaced  them  and  we  are  now  attached  to 
them  and  adjusting  ourselves  to  an  entirely  new 
bunch  of  men.  The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  staff  of  the  7'7th 
didn't  take  any  women  with  them  at  all;  they 
said  the  place  they  were  going  to  was  too  danger- 
ous. Of  course,  we  were  much  disappointed  and 
it  was  hard  seeing  them  march  away  without  us. 
However,  our  new  division  looks  fine  and  I  like 
the  type  of  men  of  which  it  is  made  up.    They 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  IIT 

have  just  been  paid  and  you  can  therefore  imagine 
that  we  have  done  a  rushing  business.  To-day 
has  been  full.  I  started  in  at  8:30,  was  on  the 
canteen  until  noon,  then  made  two  hundred  and 
fifty  doughnuts  to  be  sent  out  to-night  and  dis- 
tributed in  the  trenches.  Lately  we  have  made 
between  us  about  a  thousand  daily  and  when  the 
night  trucks  go  up  the  line  with  the  supplies 
they  take  them  along.  It's  only  a  few  kilometers 
to  the  front  line  trenches  and  as  this  is  a  quieter 
sector  than  some,  the  boys  get  a  chance  to  in- 
dulge in  a  doughnut  or  two,  while  they  keep 
watch. 

After  my  batch  of  doughnuts  was  done,  I 
helped  our  Y  treasurer,  mending  money,  etc.  until 
six ;  then  on  the  canteen  again  until  eight.  These 
evening  hours  are  always  our  busiest  ones  and, 
in  the  midst  of  a  huge  rush,  our  Y  chief  came 
back  from  Paris  with  some  mail.  It  was  quite 
maddening.  There  was  a  big  bunch  for  me  and 
I  laid  it  under  the  end  of  my  counter  where  I 
could  look  at  it  while  I  worked,  hoping  that  I'd 
get  a  second  to  peek  inside  at  least  one  of  the 
home  letters  of  which  there  were  three.  How- 
ever, the  "  second "  never  came  as  I  worked 
straight  through  until  the  M.  P.  marched  in  and 
ordered  lights  out.  (We're  not  supposed  to  keep 
our  place  open  after  dark  as  that  necessitates  two 
or  three  candles  and  since  the  recent  bad  air- 
raids, one  can't  so  much  as  light  a  match,  except- 
ing behind  closed  blinds. ) 


118  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Letters  mean  so  much  in  this  tiny,  out-of-the- 
way  spot,  that  no  one  who  hasn't  experienced  it 
can  realize  what  an  awful  thing  it  is  to  have  your 
mail  sitting  there  before  you  and  not  be  able  to 
read  it !  However,  I  have  made  up  for  it.  When 
I  got  home  to-night  I  lighted  two  candles,  an  un- 
heard-of extravagance,  and  have  just  had  a  won- 
derful hour  of  home  atmosphere.  It's  a  dark 
night  and  I  guess  the  Germans  won't  be  over.  I 
feel  very  peaceful  and  comfortably  installed  in 
my  big  bed.  In  the  village  street  below  me  a 
bunch  of  French  people  are  gathered  to  gossip 
and  enjoy  the  cool  evening  air.  Now  I  can  hear 
the  tramp,  tramp  of  marching  feet  on  the  hard 
white  road  outside.  Two  or  three  companies  of 
Sammies  are  passing  on  their  way  up  the  line 
and  how  they  are  singing ! 

"0  — hio!    0  — hiol 

We'll  win  the  war  or  know  the  reason  why. 

And  when  the  battle's  over 

We'll  buy  a  bottle  o'  booze 

And  we'll  drink  to  old  Ohio 

'Til  we  wobble  in  our  shoes." 

They've  passed  now  and  the  sound  gi'ows 
fainter  and  very  sweet  in  the  distance.  The  song 
has  already  become  familiar  to  me  and  is  con- 
stantly sung  by  all  the  various  outfits  of  this  fine 
Division. 

All's  quiet.  The  townsfolk  have  turned  in  and 
I  am  about  to  follow  their  example.  It  gives  one 
such  a  proud  feeling  of  security  to  know  that  a 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  119 

long  column  of  strong  khaM-clad  figures  are 
marching  out  into  the  night  to  stand  between,  and 
singing  as  they  go ! 

Baccarat,  August  15th,  1918. 

For  three  days  now  we  have  been  running  our 
canteen  under  an  awning  on  the  main  village 
street.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  our  canteen 
room  is  being  all  built  over.  First  an  enormous 
counter  that  runs  the  whole  length,  with  a  wealth 
of  shelves  underneath  for  all  our  supplies.  Then 
the  walls  are  being  papered  in  a  cheerful  yellow 
tone  and  the  windows  are  to  have  strips  of  bright 
chintz.     Very  gay  and  pretty  it  will  be. 

In  the  meantime,  no  county  fair  ever  caused 
such  a  commotion  as  we  do.  The  spectacle  of 
jeunes  filles  Americaines  actually  selling  things 
out  on  the  open  street  is  simply  too  much  for  the 
absurd  inhabitants  of  this  town.  The  first  day 
that  we  opened  our  out-of-doors  counter  the  sol- 
diers could  scarcely  fight  their  way  through  to 
buy  what  they  wanted,  so  surrounded  were  we  by 
the  gaping  population.  They  stood  in  a  large 
ring  with  their  eyes  saucer-shape  and  theiy 
mouths  wide  open.  We  got  perfectly  hysterical 
before  the  day  was  over.  It's  been  rather  awful, 
being  the  center  of  attention  this  way ;  we  sha'n't 
be  sorry  to  move  back  into  the  shelter  of  four 
walls  where  only  American  eyes  can  look  at  us. 
We've  been  working  on  our  street  comer  amid 
clouds  of  dust  and  flies.     This,  added  to  millions 


120  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

of  small  children  and  the  usual  congregation  of 
yapping  dogs  makes  it  very  amusing,  though 
trying  at  times.  However,  I  love  the  variety  and 
am  so  thankful  that  the  Y  Headquarters  in  Paris 
are  letting  me  stay  on  for  a  time.  Perhaps  if 
I  lie  low  and  say  nothing  they  will  forget  I  am 
out  here,  and  I'll  just  move  along  "  up  "  with 
the  Division  when  it  goes.  That  would  be  great. 
Much  to  our  regret,  Chester's  outfit  has  left 
and  will  shortly  be  operating  on  the  Toul  Front. 
Work,  being  engineering,  will  necessarily  be  of 
a  dangerous  nature. 

Baccarat,  September  5th,  1918. 
The  papers  have  been  a  never-ending  wonder 
the  past  few  days  and  the  news  from  the  front  is 
pretty  fine.  The  future  certainly  looks  full  of 
promise.  Of  course,  every  one  is  jumping  to  con- 
clusions at  once  and  talking  about  spending 
Christmas  in  Berlin  or  back  in  the  States !  That 
of  course  is  too  good  to  be  true,  but  peace  doesn't 
seem  over  a  year  away  and  it  makes  one  feel 
pretty  happy.  The  end  certainly  is  in  sight  and 
already  I  find  myself  planning  busily  about  what 
I  am  going  to  do  when  I  get  home.  I  think  I'll 
spend  the  first  week  just  looking  hard  at  all  my 
family ;  after  that  I'll  eat  all  the  things  I  haven't 
had  for  fourteen  months.  Also,  I  shall  never 
again  wear  sensible  war-like  clothes.  No  more 
tailor-made  waists  and  skirts  for  mine.     I'll  live 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  121 

in  chiffon  gowns,  the  sheerest  of  silk  stockings 
and  thin  soled  pumps ! 

This  little  place  may  not  be  our  headquarters 
for  very  much  longer.  The  Division  is  going  to 
move  soon,  at  least  so  it  is  rumored,  and  thank 
goodness  the  Y  and  its  force  go  with  them.  We 
don't  know  where  we  shall  be  headed  for,  except 
that  it's  up  the  line  and  may  be  any  of  three 
fronts.  I  shall  now  have  the  experience  of  trav- 
eling along  as  a  regular  part  of  this  army  of 
ours  and  I  know  it's  going  to  be  the  most  inter- 
esting yet.  It's  quite  wonderful  knowing  so 
many,  many  members  of  this  huge  Division. 
Wherever  one  goes  the  streets,  the  shops  are  full 
of  soldiers  and  they're  always  covered  with 
smiles;  it  makes  me  feel  the  whole  world  is  my 
friend  and  it  is  a  nice  sensation. 

Naturally  this  talk  of  moving  to  some  other 
place  is  all  rumor  yet,  and  may  not  come  off  at 
all.  I  get  so  many  rumors  all  the  time ;  as  soon 
as  the  boys  hear  anything  they  come  tearing  into 
the  Y  to  impart  it,  and  I  have  learned  by  exper- 
ience to  take  it  with  a  grain  of  salt.  I  just 
wanted  you  to  know  ahead,  so  that  a  change  of 
base  wouldn't  surprise  or  worry  you  if  it  came. 

Thank  you  for  sending  the  little  editorial  com- 
ments on  Mrs.  Deland's  article,  and  the  criticism. 
At  the  time  the  article  was  written,  no  one  who 
heard  it  on  this  side  of  the  water,  felt  that  it 
was  pro-German  propaganda.     I  don't  think  any- 


122  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

one  quite  realized  in  the  States  the  very  dark 
hours  through  which  France  passed  during  the 
spring  and  early  summer.  Many  Americans  at 
that  time  felt  that  from  now  on  the  task  of  driv- 
ing the  Germans  back  and  of  crushing  their  Kul- 
tur,  was  ours  and  ours  alone.  France,  they  felt, 
was  well  nigh  spent  and  of  course  the  whole 
world  knows  that  America  came  into  the  war 
just  in  time.  Some  French  people  felt  that  it 
was  too  late  and  in  her  article  Mrs.  Deland  quotes 
from  what  they  said.  You  must  remember  that 
six  months  have  wrought  a  miracle;  half  a  year 
ago  defeat  was  staring  us  in  the  face;  conditions 
at  home  seemed  hopelessly  tangled  and  wound 
about  with  red  tape.  The  vanguard  of  the  A,  E. 
F.  was  not  properly  supplied,  and  to  us  on  this 
side  our  country  seemed  entirely  blind  to  the  fact 
and  certainly  not  awake  to  the  critical  need  for 
efficient  and  double-quick  action.  I  remember 
Mrs.  Deland  saying  that  she  wanted  to  throw 
something  before  the  eye  of  the  American  public 
that  would  stir  it  up  to  a  realization  of  the 
situation  as  it  really  was.  Since  then  the  miracle 
has  happened.  America  has  shaken  herself  free 
from  the  petty  entanglements  which  held  her 
down,  and  has  turned  the  tide.  Mrs.  Deland's 
bomb  came  after  it  was  needed  and  now  in  the 
light  of  the  recent,  glorious  victories  it  sounds 
like  pro-German  propaganda.  It  is  so  easy  to 
forget,  when  things  are  running  smoothly,  that 
there  were  ever  hours  of  doubt  and  that  drastic 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  123 

measures  were  necessary.  No  one  who  wasn't 
here  on  the  spot  can  know  what  those  months  of 
retreat  meant  to  the  French,  and  to  those  of  us 
who  were  privileged  to  live  amongst  them  during 
that  time.  They  were  prepared  to  fight  to  the 
last  man,  to  lose  their  last  drop  of  blood  for 
France,  and  yet  no  one  could  be  sure,  not  even 
the  usual  cock-sure  Americans,  that  the  German 
advance  could  be  withheld.  And  then  came 
Bertha.  Paris,  the  heart  of  France,  assaulted! 
The  Germans  never  did  anything  in  all  the  four 
years  of  cunning  savagery  that  cut  so  deep  into 
the  French  nation. 

As  I  say,  no  one  who  did  not  see  with  his  own 
eyes  can  understand  how  close  the  front  line 
seemed, —  even  to  those  of  us  who  were  tucked 
away  in  the  mountains  of  Savoy.  So  don't  judge 
Mrs.  Deland's  article  too  severely.  Her  idea  was 
to  awaken  America  and  so  save  this  wondrous 
and  brave  little  country,  not  to  mention  the  rest 
of  the  civilized  world.  The  warning  wasn't 
needed.  It  came  when  the  air  was  ringing  with 
the  valor  of  our  own  beloved  marine^,^ — and 
Paris  had  been  saved. 

Then  every  one  laughed  at  fears,  pessimistic  re- 
marks were  scorned,  labeled  pro-German,  and  yet 
at  one  time  just  such  medicine  was  needed. 

After  all,  can  any  one  foretell  the  future  of  the 
vivid  present  in  which  we  are  living?  We  know 
that  we  are  working  toward  the  light  —  each  of 
us  weaves  a  world  beyond  the  war  to  our  liking  — 


124  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

some  of  us  see  more  hope  in  it  than  others.  To 
Mrs.  Deland  it  seems  a  more  distant  thing,  but 
nevertheless  she  sees  it.  Not  in  our  day,  per- 
haps, but  ultimately  a  new  and  better  world. 

Baccarat,  September  13th,  1918. 

Our  orders  to  move  have  come  really  before  we 
expected  them,  and  the  town  and  all  the  sur- 
rounding landscape  is  a-bustle  with  preparations. 
We  are  to  be  ready  and  off  just  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible and,  from  the  tone  of  the  orders,  I  imagine 
there  is  some  place  up  the  line  where  we  are 
needed  and  that  we  are  to  hurry.  All  the  sol- 
diers are  tremendously  excited  and  in  a  state  to 
be  on  the  way,  as  we  all  are. 

We,  at  the  canteen,  are  busier  than  ever,  of 
course ;  the  boys  are  stocking  up  for  the  trip.  All 
the  outlying  huts  are  being  closed  and  their  sup- 
plies and  secretaries  arriving  here  at  Headquar- 
ters. It's  a  wonderful  sensation  to  be  a  part  of 
the  huge  preparation.  This  moving  along  with 
a  family  of  thousands  of  members  is  to  me  quite 
thrilling.  I  feel  sort  of  like  the  night  before 
Christmas  and  act  exactly  as  much  like  a  child 
as  do  any  of  the  soldiers.  In  a  certain  way,  of 
course,  I  hate  to  leave.  These  have  been  two 
wonderful  months  and  have  meant  so  much  in 
the  way  of  experience  and  opportunity.  How- 
ever, one  is  ever  keen  for  the  unknown  and  for 
that  which  lies  ahead  and  I  should  be  heart- 
broken if  my  Division  should  go  without  me. 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  125 

Moyen,  September  17th,  1918. 

I  certainly  am  the  most  fortunate  of  mortals! 
This  is  what  has  happened.  Alice,  as  I  wrote 
you,  has  been  with  the  148th  Infantry  ever  since 
the  37th  Division  came  into  the  sector,  and  as 
she  has  done  such  excellent  work  with  them,  the 
commanding  officer  told  her  that,  if  she  could  get 
another  girl,  he  would  be  very  glad  to  have  her 
travel  with  the  troops  and  get  up  a  canteen  for 
them  at  each  stopping  place.  You  can  fancy 
Alice's  delight,  and  mine  when  she  asked  me  to 
be  the  "  other  girl  " ! 

The  remainder  of  the  Y  women  are  going  to  be 
moved  en  masse  to  a  place  near  Bar-le-Duc  to 
await  developments  and  see  where  they  can  be 
most  useful.  Alice  and  I  won't  have  to  leave  the 
Division  at  all  and  are  going  right  along  with 
it.     Aren't  we  the  lucky  guys? 

Moyen,  September  18th,  1918. 
Such  crowded,  vivid  days  as  these  have  been 
and  how  I  wish  I  might  paint  them  on  paper  for 
you.  We  have  a  camouflaged  Ford  camion,  chuck 
full  of  supplies  and  are  given  our  orders  each 
day  and  official  looking  road  maps  to  show  us 
where  to  go.  We  can  move  so  much  quicker  than 
the  regiment  that  we  generally  shoot  ahead  and 
have  our  canteen  in  readiness  by  the  time  the  boys 
arrive.  There  is  a  nice  Y  man  with  one  eye  who 
drives  the  camion  and  when  the  three  of  us  are 
packed  in  the  narrow  seat  and  the  back  is  stacked 


126  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

high  with  cigarettes,  chocolate,  etc.,  not  to  men- 
tion our  faithful  bed-rolls,  no  car  on  earth  but  a 
Lizzie  could  make  the  grade.  However,  she  does 
nobly  and  we  have  grown  very  fond  of  her  al- 
ready. 

If  we  were  busy  before,  we  are  certainly  busy 
now.  We've  set  up  our  canteen  in  a  bewitching 
nook.  The  nuns  in  this  town  have  let  us  have 
a  little  room  in  one  end  of  their  convent  and  have 
been  very  kind  although,  of  course,  intensely  cur- 
ious at  seeing  us  traveling  about  with  the  army. 
It's  surprising  how  soon  a  place  looks  homelike. 
Two  hours'  work  and  the  dark  little  room  with 
its  mud  floor  looked  quite  attractive.  We  made 
some  rough  writing  tables  and  stuck  candles 
about  everywhere.  As  soon  as  the  regiment  ar- 
rived, of  course,  we  were  swamped.  The  boys  sat 
all  over  the  floor  and  on  the  window  sill  and  we 
had  a  very  merry  time  until  well  after  dark  when 
taps  sounded  and  they  all  disappeared  in  the  most 
amazing  manner.  I  guess  that  old  convent  never 
heard  so  much  noise  before  and  I  hope  we  didn't 
shock  those  gentle  little  nuns  with  our  singing 
and  laughter. 

We've  been  messing  on  the  march  with  our 
Colonel  and  his  staff  and  they  have  been  endlessly 
kind  and  thoughtful.  The  boys  have  been  ador- 
able too  and  helped  us  in  a  thousand  ways.  We 
are  now  awaiting  orders  to  move  on  to  the  next 
place,  there  being  several  stops  before  our  desti- 
nation is  reached.     We  are  working  from  8  A.  m. 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  127 

to  10  p.  M.  and  both  of  us  never  felt  better.  This 
certainly  "  is  the  life  "  and  we're  having  the  time 
of  our  lives. 

Fains,  September  19th,  1918. 

Last  night  we  didn't  get  much  sleep.  We  lost 
our  regiment  and  spent  most  of  the  wee  small 
hours  chasing  clews  all  over  the  countryside. 
You  can't  imagine  how  awful  it  is  getting  sep- 
arated and  not  knowing  just  where  the  outfit  is. 
I  am  always  in  a  panic  for  fear  that  by  some  hook 
or  crook  they  will  leave  us  behind  when  they  get 
to  the  "  real  front "  and  that  we  sha'n't  be  able 
to  do  our  tiny  bit  to  help.  So  last  night  I  had 
just  about  given  up  hope  of  ever  seeing  those 
hundreds  of  familiar  smiling  faces  again.  How- 
ever, we  did  find  them  at  last  camped  near  Bar- 
le-Duc  and  we  stopped  there  at  dawn  for  a  few 
hours'  sleep  in  the  very  filthiest  bed  I  have  ever 
seen. 

We  had  quite  a  time  with  our  camion  and  with 
our  driver.  Lizzie  needed  gas  and  the  Y  man 
needed  his  supper.  He  told  us  that  he  wasn't 
entirely  in  sympathy  with  an  army  that  allowed 
ladies  to  run  all  over  the  earth  setting  up  can- 
teens for  it  and  that  "  woman's  place  was  in  the 
home,"  etc.,  and  not  in  a  gasless  Ford  on  a  dark 
French  road  in  the  middle  of  the  night!  We 
tried  to  smooth  him  down;  one  couldn't  blame 
him  exactly.  He  is  a  bully  good  sport  but  this 
time  he  was  adamant.     At  the  time  we  were 


128  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

crawling  past  a  huge  long  train  of  camions  and 
as  no  lights  were  allowed  it  did  seem  pitchy  black. 
Suddenly  we  came  to  a  cross-roads  and  a  tall 
figure  stepped  up  to  our  car.  He  was  the  officer 
in  charge  of  the  truck  train  and  had  been  stand- 
ing at  the  cross-roads  to  point  out  the  way.  He 
was  somewhat  surprised  when  a  woman's  voice 
answered  his  curt  questions  and  at  once  wanted 
to  do  all  he  could  to  help  us  find  our  outfit. 
Alice  gingerly  put  on  her  flashlight  for  a  moment 
to  look  at  the  map  and  they  both  bent  over  the 
complicated  road  system.  Suddenly  there  was 
an  exclamation  and  Alice  said  "  Why,  Jim, — 
how  extraordinary ! "  They  proved  to  be  old 
friends  and  in  a  moment  were  reminiscing  and 
thousands  of  miles  away  in  "  God's  country."  It 
seemed  so  strange  her  running  into  him  there  on 
that  dark  country  road,  and  both  of  them  on  their 
way  up  into  the  fighting !  We  couldn't  stop  but 
a  moment  and  he  and  liis  boys  had  to  get  many 
miles  before  dawn,  so  we  jolted  on.  (I  may  say 
here  that  this  fine  boy  never  came  back  from  the 
Front.) 

About  an  hour  later  Lizzie  stopped  half  way 
up  a  very  steep  hill  and  refused  to  budge.  On  in- 
vestigation, we  found  that  the  last  few  drops  of 
gasoline  had  all  run  out  of  the  engine  on  account 
of  the  steep  slope  of  the  hill.  It  looked  very 
much  as  though  we  should  have  to  curl  up  on  the 
side  of  the  road  for  the  rest  of  the  night  but  we 
finally  thought  of  a  plan.     We  took  all  the  cases 


THE  LORRAINE  SECTOR  129 

and  baggage  out  and  lifted  Lizzie  bodily  and 
turned  her  around  so  that  she  headed  down  in- 
stead of  up  hill.  In  this  way  the  gas  all  ran  back 
into  the  engine  and,  after  we  had  loaded  the  stuff 
again,  Lizzie  cheerfully  backed  up  the  hill  and 
ran  merrily  as  far  as  the  next  town  where  she 
had  a  good  long  drink ! 

It  surely  was  an  interesting  night.  I'm  afraid 
Alice  and  I  enjoyed  it  more  than  the  Y  man,  who 
was  half-starved  by  morning. 

Fains,  September  20th,  1918. 
We  are  already  settled  at  our  second  stopping 
place  and  shall  be  here  some  days,  probably  until 
further  orders  come  to  move  along.  We  left  our 
last  stopping  place  the  day  before  yesterday  and 
have  been  on  the  road  practically  ever  since.  The 
run  over  was  simply  beautiful,  a  cloudless,  crisp 
autumn  day  and  the  country  most  lovely.  I 
think  for  both  of  us  it  was  the  happiest  day 
we  have  spent  in  France.  We  ran  into 
two  or  three  other  regiments  not  our  own, 
although  moving  in  the  same  direction.  The 
roads  were  crowded  with  army  trains,  camions 
in  endless  lines,  winding  across  the  landscape  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and,  of  course,  all 
filled  with  the  familiar  and  beloved  khaki  figures. 
As  we  passed  each  motor  truck,  naturally  we 
smiled  and  waved.  Instantly  the  whole  truck 
came  to  life,  a  great  shout  went  up  and  the  boys 
tore  their  caps  off  their  heads  and  waved  them  in 


130  CANTEENINO  OVERSEAS 

the  air,  shouting  "  Honest-to-God,  American 
girls !  "  I  have  never  been  so  touched  as  at  the 
transformation  that  came  over  their  faces.  As 
we  met,  they  were  sober  and  more  or  less  uninter- 
ested in  their  surroundings.  We  passed,  leaving 
each  carload,  full  of  a  broadly  grinning,  ges- 
ticulating throng.  The  foregoing  sounds  horri- 
bly conceited,  I  know,  but  I  can  trust  you  to  real- 
ize that  the  individual  is  not  the  thing  that 
counts  over  here.  It  is  just  one's  nationality  and 
the  touch  of  home.  Personally,  of  course,  we 
aren't  anything.  It's  merely  the  country  we 
stand  for  and  the  language  we  speak  that  does 
the  good. 

Half  an  hour  after  Ave  arrived  in  this  muddy 
little  town  we  had  set  up  shop,  this  time  in  a 
French  barracks  and  our  dirt  floor  was  invisible 
under  a  multitude  of  mnddy  feet.  The  boys  find 
the  "  Y  "  so  qnickly  and  ten  minutes  after  our 
boxes  had  been  carried  in,  the  place  was  jammed 
to  the  doors. 

We  have  found  a  billot  in  a  rather  primitive 
though  alluring  place.  Onr  little  box-like  room 
is  built  right  into  one  comer  of  the  stable,  and  we 
walk  out  of  our  door  into  the  hayloft !  The  space 
next  to  us  is  occupied  by  a  large  family  of  rab- 
bits. They  are  doubtless  later  to  be  turned  into 
a  fine  stew,  for  which  the  French  are  so  famous. 
However,  the  bunnies  seem  oblivious  of  their  fate 
and  eat  and  wiggle  their  noses  happily  from 
morning  to  night. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  ARGONNB 

Revigny,  September  21st,  1918. 

Yesterday,  very  unexpectedly  came  orders  to 
move  from  Fains.  This  time  we  knew  it  would 
mean  the  Front.  We  studied  out  with  great  care 
the  roads  that  would  lead  to  our  destination. 
The  adjutant  gave  us  our  written  orders  as  usual 
and  we  started  off  ahead  of  the  regiment  with  a 
certain  feeling  of  thrill.  We  took  the  wonderful 
main  road  that  leads  from  Bar-le-Duc  to  Verdun 
and  which  is  kept  as  smooth  as  the  top  of  a  bil- 
liard table.  It's  hard  to  see  how  they  manage  to 
keep  it  in  condition  as  the  traffic  is  necessarily 
terrific. 

Such  a  golden  autumn  day  I  have  never  seen 

and  the  red-and-yellow  of  the  foliage  along  the 

way  was  marvelous  beyond  words.     On  and  on 

we  went  with  our  map  spread  out  on  our  knees, 

through  scores  of  tiny  red-roofed  villages.    Lizzie 

was  running  like  velvet  and  the  miles  slipped 

away  as  by  magic  under  those  nimble  wheels. 

The  great  highway  was  a  most  interesting  sight. 

Many  divisions,  both  American  and  French,  were 

moving,  all  headed  the  same  way.     Hundreds  of 

camions,  tractors,  tanks,  soup  kitchens,  in  fact, 

131 


132  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

all  the  elaborate  paraphernalia  that  belongs  to  a 
fighting  division.  Scores  of  massive  guns,  roll- 
ing along,  gracefully  draped  in  their  gowns  of 
camouflage  and  pulled  by  lumbering,  snorting 
trucks. 

The  whole  A.  E.  F.  seemed  to  be  on  the  road  or 
camped  along  the  side.  Here  and  there  we 
passed  a  colored  regiment,  the  first  I  had  seen 
of  our  broadly  smiling  colored  boys  and  how 
strange  and  out  of  place  they  looked  in  this  white 
ribbon  of  a  French  road.  Towards  sunset  time 
the  congestion  on  the  road  grew  less  and  we  be- 
gan to  notice  that  the  villages  looked  a  bit  the 
worse  for  shells  that  had  fallen  here  and  there. 
The  place  we  were  headed  for  was  just  about  an 
inch  away  ( on  the  map ! )  and  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  we  were  in  the  center  of  the  village  (Ville 
en  Coucance)  and  an  M.  P.  at  the  corner  was 
pointing  out  the  way  to  Corps  Headquarters, 
where  he  said  some  "  Second  Louis  "  would  give 
us  information  concerning  the  location  decided 
on  for  our  regiment  to  spend  the  night.  Alice 
and  I  left  the  Ford  at  the  bottom  of  a  hill  and 
climbed  up  to  a  cluster  of  low-lying  buildings 
which  represented  the  5th  Corps  Headquarters. 
As  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  about,  we  walked 
into  the  first  of  the  little  bungalows.  There  was 
no  "  Second  Louis  "  to  be  seen  but,  as  we  entered, 
a  tall  gray-haired  man  rose  from  behind  a  table 
at  which  he  had  been  writing  and  came  forward. 
As  we  saw  the  two  stars  on  his  shoulder  we  came 


THE  ARGONNE  133 

to  attention.  He  asked  us  how  we  happened  to 
be  there  and  what  he  could  do  for  us.  We  ex- 
plained our  connection  with  the  division  and 
presented  our  orders.  He  calmly  turned  them 
over,  wrote  something  on  the  back  and  handed 
them  to  Alice.     This  is  what  she  read : 

To  all  sentinels  and  M.  P.'s  along  the  road. 

These  two  ladies  are  to  be  returned  at  once  to  their 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  Heaquarters  near  Bar-le-Due.    By  order 

Major  General  Cameron. 

When  we  had  read  it  through,  he  said :  "  I 
cannot  take  the  responsibility  of  allowing  you  to 
remain  in  the  town.  This  afternoon  I  ordered 
all  the  civilians  out  and,  as  we  are  expecting  a 
bombardment  at  any  time,  I  must  ask  you  to 
leave  at  once.  I  have  two  daughters  at  home 
just  your  ages.  I  admire  the  work  you  are  doing 
but  this  is  no  place  for  women."  With  that  he 
bowed  us  out.  In  the  face  of  such  orders  and 
from  a  General,  there  was  nothing  to  be  said. 
We  made  our  way  silently  to  where  Lizzie  and 
the  Y  man  were  waiting  and  turned  back  along 
the  road  we  had  so  recently  traveled.  Two  such 
disappointed  ladies  you  never  saw.  The  Y  man 
looked  much  relieved.  He  said  he  thought  from 
the  first  that  we  were  idiots  to  go  so  near  the 
Front  Line.  It  was  all  right  for  a  man,  but  for 
women !  —  they  were  meant  to  be  sheltered,  etc. 
Such  conversation  didn't  help,  somehow ! 

However,  one  must  take  what  comes,  of  course, 
and  I  haven't  despaired  entirely.     We  will  surely 


134  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

find  some  way  of  getting  back  to  the  boys.  The 
rest  of  our  Y  force  are  here  at  Revigny  and  for 
the  moment  we  have  all  got  to  wait  until  we  can 
be  of  some  real  use.  Perhaps  that  won't  be  until 
the  Division  has  been  withdrawn  again  and 
brought  back  here  to  rest.  In  the  meantime,  we 
spend  our  days  in  a  little  shed  by  the  railroad 
track  making  doughnuts  and  hot  chocolate  for 
the  boys  that  pour  through  here  on  the  troop 
trains.  We  haven't  any  utensils  so  we  use  a 
wine  bottle  for  a  rolling  pin  and  the  mouth  to 
make  the  hole  in  the  center  of  each  doughnut! 
It's  surprising  how  many  sided  and  useful  a  wine 
bottle  is ! 

Revigny,  September  25th,  1918. 
The  great  drive  has  started  and  our  division 
has  jumped  off  with  the  rest.  So  much  we  know 
but  absolutely  nothing  else.  The  guns  are  boom- 
ing night  and  day.  I  wake  up  at  night  and  hold 
my  breath  when  I  think  of  all  those  fine  lads  in 
that  veritable  Hell.  Alice  and  I  are  champing 
the  bit  these  days,  I  can  tell  you.  It  seems  per- 
fectly criminal  to  be  held  away  back  here  when 
our  own  regiment  may  be  coming  out  of  the  lines 
any  hour  and  in  need  of  a  hundred  things.  Two 
others  who  belong  to  the  146th  Infantry  are 
equally  impatient  and  we  are  looked  upon,  I  fear, 
as  the  four  rebels.  The  other  women  are  much 
more  sensible  and  don't  thrash  around  the  way 
we  do.     The  Y  men  have  gone  up  the  line  and 


THE  ARGONNE  135 

left  us  instructions  to  "  sit  on  the  nest "  and  stop 
fussing  until  they  send  for  us. 

Pagny-sur-Meuse,  October  4:th,  1918. 
I  have  been  out  of  reach  of  any  post  office  for 
the  past  week  and  am  only  just  now  back  in  civ- 
ilization again.  Alice,  the  two  girls  (of  whom  I 
have  already  written) ,  Harriet  Forman  and  Ruth 
Andrews,  and  myself  finally  revolted,  took  our 
bedding  rolls  and  musette  bags  and  started  off 
on  "  our  own."  We  knew  approximately  where 
our  Divisional  Headquarters  were  situated  and 
decided  that  some  women  ought  to  be  there  when 
the  boys  came  out,  orders  or  no  orders.  Some- 
how we  couldn't  any  of  us  settle  down  in  Revigny 
and  feel  right  about  it,  so  we  got  on  a  train  and 
spent  the  first  night  in  Bar-le-Duc  slipping 
through  the  M.  P.'s  at  the  station  without  show- 
ing our  movement  orders,  which  was  lucky  as 
we  had  none  to  show!  We  turned  our  steps  to- 
wards a  somber  house  in  a  back  alley  where  once 
before  we  had  found  a  bed.  (Billets  are  at  a 
premium  in  all  the  towns  anywhere  near  the  lines 
and  people  generally  walk  the  streets  of  Bar-le- 
Duc  all  night.)  Fortunately  we  bribed  the  old 
woman  who  keeps  the  house  to  give  us  two  beds 
and  we  had  a  fine  sleep  until  4  A.  M.  when  we 
arose  to  catch  the  4:30  that  runs  daily  on  the 
narrow-gauge  railway  up  the  line.  We  had  spent 
an  interesting  half  hour  the  night  before  poring 
over  our  maps  and  making  out  the  quickest  route. 


136  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

The  streets  were  quite  deserted  as  we  sallied 
forth  and  the  rain  was  coming  down  in  sheets. 
Luckily  we  had  our  trench  coats  so  didn't  get 
very  wet.  Near  the  station  a  crowd  of  night 
birds  had  gathered  about  a  stand  where  an  old, 
old  woman  was  selling  coffee  by  the  light  of  a  tiny 
gas  lamp  that  flickered  and  sputtered  in  the  wind 
and  rain.  She  called  it  coffee  but  it  tasted  like 
acorns  and  of  course  there  was  no  cream  or  sugar. 
However,  it  was  steaming  hot  and  we  were  more 
than  thankful  for  the  warmth. 

The  little  toy  train  was  already  filled  with 
soldiers  when  we  arrived  and  was  snorting  and 
whistling  to  be  off.  It  was  so  dark  that  except 
for  their  conversation  we  couldn't  have  told  what 
nationality  the  soldiers  all  about  us  were.  As 
soon  as  they  realized  we  were  women,  and  Amer- 
icans at  that,  there  were  exclamations  of  sur- 
prise and  we  were  at  once  given  seats. 

For  almost  two  hours  we  jolted  along  in  dark- 
ness, no  lights  being  allowed,  and  slowly  the  dawn 
began  to  break  and  we  could  distinguish  the  blue 
figures  sitting  and  lying  asleep  all  over  the  seats 
and  up  and  down  the  aisles.  The  rain  was  beat- 
ing against  the  windows  and  we  looked  out  on  a 
dismal  gray  landscape  with  here  and  there  a 
small  village  partially  destroyed,  its  one  street 
deserted  and  a  glistening  river  of  mud. 

We  cheered  ourselves  with  a  loaf  of  bread  and 
a  can  of  bully  beef  which  we  had  brought  with  us 
and  all  the  French  soldiers  breakfasted  too  on 


THE  ARGOKNE  137 

bread,  cheese  and  Pinard  (red  wine).  I  was  so 
hungrj^  and  I  don't  think  any  breakfast  ever 
tasted  so  good. 

About  eight-thirty  we  reached  Auz^ville,  the 
end  of  the  railroad  line.  We  dragged  our  bed- 
rolls off,  cached  them  in  the  tiny  station  and  then 
waded  through  muddy  meadows  to  the  edge  of 
the  town.  A  regiment  was  billeted  there  on  its 
way  up  the  line  and  the  place  was  crowded  with 
American  oflflcers  and  soldiers.  We  hunted  for 
some  time  before  we  could  get  a  billet  but  finally 
found  two  beds  in  the  house  of  the  village  gro- 
ceresses.  There  were  four  of  them,  all  old  maids, 
and  they  greeted  us  with  great  enthusiasm  and 
interest  when  they  found  we  were  Americans, 

The  town  had  been  fearfully  shelled  up  to  the 
day  before  when  the  braves  Americains  had 
driven  the  enemy  back  through  the  Argonne  For- 
est and  for  the  first  time  in  months  the  civilians 
had  spent  a  quiet  night,  out  of  the  cellar.  Such 
a  story  as  these  maiden  ladies  had  to  tell !  Dur- 
ing the  four  years  they  had  been  obliged  to  evac- 
uate many  times.  The  French  had  lost  and  re- 
taken the  town  repeatedly  and  each  time  the  Ger- 
mans took  or  demolished  whatever  they  could  lay 
their  hands  on.  Nothing  was  left;  life  would 
have  to  be  begun  anew  but  at  least  they  and  theirs 
were  safe  at  last.  The  Americans  had  come  in 
the  nick  of  time. 

I  wish  all  those  at  home  who  have  made  the 
supreme  sacrifice  that  France  and,  the  world 


138  CANTEENIKG  OVERSEAS 

might  be  saved,  those  whose  boys  gave  their  lives 
in  the  great  Argonne  drive,  could  have  seen  the 
relief  and  gratitude  in  those  old  French  faces.  It 
might  make  the  burden  and  loss  a  bit  easier  to 
bear,  for  no  crusader  or  knight  of  olden  days 
ever  died  for  so  great  and  supreme  a  cause. 

That  night  we  spent  in  Auz^ville  and  messed 
with  some  delightful  Southern  troops  who  filled 
us  full  of  delicious  beaten  biscuit  and  pancakes. 
As  we  had  scarcely  had  anything  to  eat  since  the 
day  before  we  were  ravenous  and  the  boys  stood 
around  in  an  amused  group  and  watched  us  swal- 
low everything  whole.  They  wanted  us  to  stay 
and  attach  ourselves  to  their  regiment  but  by 
that  time  we  were  in  a  fever  of  impatience  to 
press  on.  So,  very  early  the  next  morning,  we 
started.  It  was  a  dark  threatening  day  with  a 
high  wind  and  the  road. deep  in  mud.  However, 
we  were  so  thankful  to  have  gotten  that  far  safely 
that  nothing  else  mattered.  The  towns  we  came 
to  were  full  of  soldiers  but  no  civilians.  The 
buildings  were  badly  shot  up  from  recent  shell- 
ing and  such  utter  desolation  I  have  never  seen. 
The  road  over  which  we  were  walking  was  in 
pretty  fair  shape,  all  except  the  mud,  which,  how- 
ever, could  not  keep  us  from  enjoying  the  tramp. 
One  could  hear  the  sound  of  the  guns  which  grew 
more  and  more  distinct  of  course  as  we  go^ 
nearer  the  lines.  We  spent  most  of  that  day 
walking  and  about  sundown  saw  the  ruins  of 
R6cicourt  in  the  distance  and  knew  that  our  trip 


THE  ARGONNE  139 

was  almost  over,  for  Divisional  Headquarters 
were  there  and  also  our  Y  men  who  were  not  ex- 
pecting us!  About  four  miles  this  side  we  ran 
into  an  ambulance  section,  the  members  of  which 
had  been  to  Aix  on  leave  months  before.  They 
were  so  surprised  when  they  saw  us  they  stared 
for  a  full  moment  before  they  took  it  in.  After 
that,  they  recognized  us  and  we  had  a  wonderful 
reunion  there  on  the  side  of  the  road.  The  last 
time  they  had  seen  us  we  were  flitting  about  the 
Casino  terraces  in  thin  summer  dresses.  Some 
change  to  the  weather-beaten,  muddy  quartet  that 
confronted  them  on  the  road  to  the  Argonne  For- 
est !  Anyway  we  were  certainly  glad  to  see  one 
another,  especially  out  there  where  friends  seem 
to  mean  more  than  anywhere  else  on  earth. 

It  was  quite  late  when  we  finally  marched  into 
R^cicourt  and  I  almost  wept  with  joy  at  the 
sight  of  some  of  our  divisional  staff  cars  drawn 
up  along  the  road  under  a  camouflaged  shelter. 
A  little  farther  on  we  ran  into  a  group  of  boys 
we  knew  and  from  then  on  it  was  a  triumphal 
entry.  As  long  as  I  live  I  never  expect  to  be  so 
happy  again.  It  seemed  a  hundred  years  since 
we  had  seen  any  of  the  familiar  faces  and  it  was 
just  like  getting  home  to  be  with  them  all  again. 
These  were  Headquarters  boys  and  they  told  us 
that  our  regiment  was  expected  to  some  back  en 
repos  in  a  very  few  days.  After  that  we  knew  the 
Y  men  miist  let  us  stay  and  help  and  they  did. 

The  line  had  advanced  so  far  during  the  first 


140  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

days  of  the  drive  that  R6cicourt  was  practically 
out  of  danger  and  anyway  there  was  so  much  to 
do  that  four  pairs  of  hands  and  feet  were  wel- 
come. So  we  picked  out  a  nice  little  ruin  and  put 
up  our  four  cots  in  what  was  left  of  the  second 
story.  As  luck  would  have  it,  most  of  the  roof 
was  still  whole  and  only  leaked  in  the  parts  of 
the  room  that  we  didn't  frequent !  The  window 
had  been  blown  out  so  we  hung  a  blanket  across. 
A  Fatima  cigarette  packing-case  made  a  fine 
washstand  and  we  felt  as  though  we  were  com- 
fortably fixed  for  the  winter.  The  town  was 
certainly  smashed  up  and  mutilated  beyond  all 
description.  We  ran  the  canteen  below  our  sleep- 
ing quarters  as  it  was  literally  the  only  remnant 
of  a  house  in  the  whole  town  with  any  roof  at 
all.  We  were  lucky  to  have  it  as  the  weather 
was  very  cold  and  the  autumn  rains  had  started, 
so  we  had  to  have  a  place  where  we  could  keep 
our  supplies  dry.  I  have  never  enjoyed  the  work 
more.  We  were  at  it  from  dawn  till  dark,  except 
when  we  ran  down  a  back  alley  to  mess  with  a 
certain  crowd  of  old  friends.  They  had  a  drag 
with  the  Quartermaster  Department  and  con- 
cocted the  most  wonderful  food  in  a  ruined  cellar. 
How  we  were  spoiled!  Special  pieces  of  horse 
were  cooked  for  us  and  in  the  morning  all  the 
hot  cakes  we  could  eat.  I  can  tell  you  we  were 
thankful  for  something  hot  after  the  long  hours 
standing  in  the  mud  and  doling  out  "  one  cigar, 
two  squares  of  chewing  tobacco  and  one  pack  of 


"    ^  THE  ARGONNE  141 

cigarettes  apiece  "  to  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of 
men.  They  hadn't  had  a  thing  in  two  weeks  and 
the  line  in  front  of  the  Y  looked  a  mile  long ! 

So  we  spent  five  wonderful  days  and,  on  the 
sixth,  the  whole  division  came  out  of  the  lines. 
About  dusk  they  marched  into  R^icourt  and  we 
stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  town  waiting,  our 
hearts  in  our  mouths.  Many  rumors  had  pre- 
ceded them,  tales  of  horror  unmentionable,  and 
we  wondered  how  many  of  those  we  had  come  to 
know  and  love  would  file  past  and  how  many  lay 
"  out  there  "  in  that  ghastly  stretch  of  shell  torn 
land. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  stir.  Around  a  bend  in 
the  road  came  the  first  column  of  troops.  Hun- 
dreds, thousands  of  men  passed  us.  Some  we 
recognized  and  some  we  never  would  know  again 
as  the  young  lads  who  had  marched  so  gayly  into 
their  first  fight.  Their  faces  were  lined  and  their 
eyes  glazed  with  fatigue  and  the  horrors  they  had 
seen.  Some  wore  bandages  about  their  heads  or 
hands,  and  others  limped  painfully  as  they  tried 
to  keep  in  step.  Finally  some  one  murmured 
"  Here  comes  the  148th."  It  was  so  dark  one 
could  scarcely  see  but  the  regiment  came  to  a 
stop  close  to  where  we  were  standing  and  we  had 
a  few  hurried  words  with  some  of  the  men  and 
officers  we  knew  best.  Only  a  few  words,  but 
enough  to  hear  of  scores  who  had  "  gone  West  " 
in  the  great  drive  and  many  more  who  at  that 
moment  were  being  rushed  over  the  cruelly  bumpy 


142  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

roads  to  dressing  stations.  Our  hearts  were 
pretty  heavy  as  we  crept  into  our  blankets  that 
night. 

The  next  day,  while  Alice  and  Andy  ran  the 
canteen  in  the  village,  Harriet  and  I  filled  a 
truck  with  chocolate  containers,  huge  quantities 
of  sugar,  milk,  cocoa  and  biscuit,  and  started  on 
our  way  out  to  a  big  plain  at  one  side  of  the  Ar- 
gonne  Forest  and  where  our  entire  division  had 
been  assembled  to  rest  their  weary  bones  before 
the  next  move.  The  plain  was  only  a  distance 
of  two  or  three  kilometers,  but,  in  order  to  reach 
it,  we  had  to  wind  in  and  out  among  the  shell 
holes  and  the  tom-up  roads  of  the  forest,  making 
a  detour  of  about  twenty  kilometers.  If  we 
hadn't  been  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  our  stuff 
through  to  the  boys  we  would  have  enjoyed  that 
bumpy  ride  better.  As  it  was,  the  woods  were 
intensely  interesting.  The  huge  naval  guns  were 
being  pulled  out  to  continue  their  usefulness 
farther  up  the  line  and  everywhere  the  under- 
brush and  smaller  trees  had  been  trampled  and 
torn  up.  The  roads  were  completely  covered  and 
camouflaged  in  many  places.  The  engineers  had 
been  working  night  and  day  that  the  ammunition 
might  be  kept  moving  forward  to  feed  the  colossal 
demand  of  those  who  at  that  moment  had  Jerry 
on  the  run. 

Such  roads !  Every  few  yards  a  shell  hole  and 
along  each  side,  heaps  of  trucks,  dead  horses ;  in 
fact,  anything  pertaining  to  the  machinery  of 


THE  ARGONNE  143 

war  and  which  had  broken  or  refused  to  work. 
There  had  been  no  time  to  stop.  The  road  must 
be  kept  free  of  blockades  and  so  the  useless  article 
was  tipped  over  into  the  ditch  (there  to  lie  until 
the  Salvage  Department  came  along,  months  af- 
terwards). A  horse  only  had  to  go  lame, —  in- 
stantly he  was  shot  and  shoved  aside.  It  was 
easy  to  see  why  the  Artillery  hadn't  been  able  to 
move  as  quickly  as  the  Infantry  and  why  our 
particular  regiment  had  been  forced  to  "  jump 
off  "  completely  unsupported,  only  becoming  con- 
scious of  their  own  barrage  when  they  ran  into 
it  themselves  as  they  came  out ! 

When  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  is  criticized  for  not  put- 
ting across  a  good  job  at  the  Front,  it  is  by  those 
who  do  not  realize  that  roads  which  were  not 
passable  for  ammunition  were  likewise  impass- 
able for  Y  supplies.  I  know  of  one  of  our  men 
who,  driving  a  Ford  camion  of  cigarettes,  was 
twenty-two  hours  going  a  distance  of  three  kilo- 
meters. The  shell  holes  on  that  road  were  deep 
enough  to  have  served  as  the  foundation  of  a 
house,  and  they  had  to  be  filled  before  the  truck 
train  could  proceed. 

Shortly  after  noon  we  arrived  at  our  destina- 
tion and  within  a  few  minutes  we  had  borrowed 
a  field  kitchen,  and  gallons  of  chocolate  were 
cooking  in  the  great  boilers.  Before  it  was  half 
ready  the  news  had  spread  and  a  line  of  boys 
began  to  form.  It  ten  minutes  we  couldn't  see 
the  end.     It  wound  in  and  out,  zig-zagging  back 


144  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

and  forth  across  that  great  plain.  Some  one  said 
it  was  half  a  mile  long;  as  we  heard  that,  we 
prayed  that  the  chocolate  and  biscuit  would  last 
till  the  very  end  man  had  been  warmed  and  filled. 

I  had  never  seen  the  Division  together  before 
and  it  was  a  thrilling  sight  to  see  them  all  as- 
sembled on  that  vast  stretch.  Thousands  upon 
thousands  of  brown  figures  in  line  and  some  lying 
prostrate  on  the  grass  fast  asleep. 

Those  who  had  lost  their  mess  cups  had  col- 
lected old  tin  cans,  anything,  in  fact,  that  would 
hold  a  few  drops  of  chocolate  and  each  one  as  he 
came  up  for  his  biscuits  and  dipper  full  of  cocoa 
had  some  little  remark  to  make.  So  many  famil- 
iar faces  and  how  keen  they  were  to  tell  their 
own  particular  experience  and  such  cheer  and 
grit  in  the  telling!  Some  blurted  out  at  once 
"  Well,  Miss  Y,  you  see  Jim  isn't  with  me  now ; 
yes,  he  got  his,"  and  then  followed  a  minute  de- 
scription of  just  how  it  had  happened.  Or  again, 
only  a  compressing  of  the  lips  and  that  terrible 
pain  in  the  eyes  which  one  comes  to  know  so  well. 
It  was  the  most  stirring  and  beautiful  day  I  have 
ever  spent.  Artificiality  was  for  once  forgotten, 
every  one  was  dealing  simply  and  unconsciously 
with  the  elemental  things  of  life  and  no  one  was 
ashamed  of  wearing  his  heart  on  his  sleeve. 

A  few  hours  before,  those  same  boys  had  been 
living  through  the  worst  Hell  ever  conceived. 
The  fumes  of  mustard  gas  still  hung  about  their 
clothes  and  the  memory  of  what  had  been,  and 


THE  ARGONNE  145 

what  they  had  escaped,  made  them  grip  my  hand 
hard,  thinking  perhaps  of  that  other  girl  or 
woman  across  the  sea  who  was  bridging  the  dis- 
tance with  her  agonized  thoughts  and  prayers. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   ST.    MIHIEL  FRONT 

Nonsard  Woods,  October  11th,  1918. 

We  returned  from  the  Argonne  to  Pagny-sur- 
Meuse,  where  our  Division  was  being  reassembled 
for  a  new  move  but  did  not  enjoy  our  sojourn 
there  as  both  Harriet  and  I  were  suffering  from 
the  effects  of  the  gas  fumes  which  had  caught  us 
in  the  Argonne.  On  the  way  to  Pagny,  we  stayed 
a  day  in  Toul.  That  night  as  I  was  leaving  the 
restaurant  where  we  had  supper,  I  ran  into  a 
lieutenant  belonging  to  Chester  Plimpton's  out- 
fit. Not  having  heard  from  Chester  for  some 
time  I  started  to  ask  the  Lieutenant  how  Chester 
was.  Before  I  could  get  the  words  out  of  my 
mouth,  the  officer  said :  "  Of  course  you  have 
heard  that  Lieutenant  Plimpton  was  killed."  I 
simply  looked  at  him  without  saying  anything, 
and  then  walked  out.  The  shock  was  so  sudden 
and  so  terrible  that  I  was  bereft  of  words.  I 
found  myself  in  the  street  with  the  others. 

Yesterday  we  started  in  pursuit  of  the  Divi- 
sion, which,  when  last  heard  of,  was  marching 
toward  the  St.  Mihiel  front.  The  narrow-gauge 
railway  took  us  as  far  as  Bern^ourt  and  there 
we  piled  out.     Our  bedrolls  were  dragged  to  the 

146 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  147 

side  of  the  road  along  which  we  hoped  soon  to  be 
traveling  and,  after  having  gleaned  some  informa- 
tion from  soldiers  billeted  in  the  forlorn  ruins  of 
the  town,  we  sat  upon  our  baggage  and  waited 
for  a  kind-hearted  truck  to  come  along!  Our 
orders  had  been  to  worm  ourselves  up  to  the 
Front  by  degrees,  no  women  being  allowed  to  fol- 
low the  troops,  as  they  were  going  straight  into 
the  lines.  The  process  of  "  getting  there,"  sug- 
gested by  our  Y  chief,  would  have  taken  weeks, 
and  so  we  had  thought  it  best  to  take  the  direct 
route  and  surprise  him. 

We  hadn't  long  to  wait,  for,  in  a  few  moments, 
an  engineer  truck,  carrying  rock  and  bound  our 
way,  stopped  and  took  us  and  our  belongings 
aboard;  Three  of  us  perched  atop  the  rock  and 
had  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  The 
other  sat  with  the  driver,  who  pointed  out  the 
sights  along  the  way,  mostly  consisting  of  mar- 
velous dugouts  of  German  make,  and  shell  holes, 
also  of  German  make!  After  many  miles  we 
came  to  the  crossroad  and  Flirey,  or  the  few 
stones  and  ruins  that  marked  where  it  had  been. 
Our  engineer  friend  had  to  drop  us  here,  as  he 
was  going  another  way,  so  we  piled  off  the  rock 
and  prepared  to  wait  for  another  "  hook." 

A  charming  Red  Cross  lady  gave  us  chocolate 
in  a  marvelously  constructed  shack  built  from 
debris.  She  told  us  that  she  was  nearer  the 
Front  than  any  other  woman  and  had  stuck  to 
her  post  during  the  great  drive,    The  place  was 


148  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

jammed  with  soldiers  and  two  of  these  stationed 
near  the  crossroads  to  stop  the  first  ambulance 
going  up  towards  our  part  of  the  line,  Alice 
went  out  to  see  the  soldiers  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments came  in,  all  excitement.  As  it  passed 
along  the  road  a  car  had  dropped  a  map  and  one 
of  the  soldiers  had  picked  it  up.  Alice  and  he 
investigated,  only  to  find  that  it  was  a  marked 
Diyisional  Map  of  great  importance,  showing  the 
exact  location  of  each  regiment  and  company. 
Under  the  name  "  St.  Benoit "  was  written 
"  148th  Regiment " !  It  was  indeed  a  find,  and 
before  the  soldier  had  pocketed  the  map  Alice  had 
drawn  a  small  but  exact  copy. 

Soon  after  this  there  were  shouts  and  an  am- 
bulance going  in  our  direction  was  stopped  and 
we  were  packed  in  with  many  farewell  injunc- 
tions and  good  wishes  from  the  Red  Cross  lady 
and  her  boys. 

At  last  we  were  on  the  last  lap  of  the  journey 
and  were  rushing  across  the  muddy  roads  to 
Bullionville,  the  Divisional  Headquarters.  It 
was  quite  a  lengthy  ride  and  a  damp  and  cold 
one.  Each  ruined  town  looked  more  dismal  and 
forlorn  than  the  last  and  we  hoped  we  were  going 
to  receive  a  cheery  welcome  to  make  up  for  the 
gloomy,  rain-drenched  surroundings. 

However,  the  chief  was  rather  furious  when  he 
saw  us  and  we  were  told  to  get  out  and  back  as 
fast  as  we  knew  how!  It  seemed  that  we  were 
only  three  or  four  kilometers  behind  Mr.  Boche 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  149 

and  that  he  had  been  shelling  the  town  every  few 
hours.  From  the  masses  of  soldiers  to  be  served 
we  felt  that  we  might  be  of  help  —  but  the  chief 
was  in  no  mood  for  arguing  so  we  meekly  begged 
an  hour's  grace  in  which  to  lunch  with  Company 
I  (whose  kitchen  was  right  'round  the  corner  in 
a  roofless  barn ) .  This  was  granted  us  on  condi- 
tion that,  our  meal  over,  we  would  start  back  at 
once.    We  agreed  sadly. 

It  was  maddening.  Before  the  hour  was  half 
over  we  had  talked  with  a  crowd  of  particular 
friends  and  heard  how  much  they  needed  a  Y 
with  four  ladies!  It  was  evident  that  the  Y 
force  wasn't  nearly  large  enough  to  cope  with 
the  needs  of  the  situation  and  yet  here  we  were, 
four  strong  people  being  hustled  off  to  guard  our 
lives  and  save  our  precious  skins! 

After  a  delicious  luncheon  of  bully  beef  and 
gold  fish  (salmon)  we  prepared  to  return  over 
the  road  so  recently  traversed.  As  we  entered 
the  Headquarters  to  bid  farewell  to  the  chief,  he 
met  us  at  the  door  with  these  words :  "  Girls, 
you've  got  to  stay  after  all.  The  Divisional 
Quartermaster  and  his  supplies  are  tied  up  on 
the  road  miles  away.  The  Y  has  been  asked  to 
turn  over  all  its  stuff  so  that  the  men  will  have 
something  to  eat  until  the  Army  supplies  arrive. 
We  need  all  the  help  we  can  get  and  more.  So 
hustle  round  and  find  yourselves  billets  if  you 
can." 

Well,  you  can  fancy  we  were  all  just  one  large 


150'         CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

smile  after  that  —  the  kind  that  doesn't  come  off. 

After  having  installed  ourselves  on  the  ground 
floor  of  a  fairly  whole  house,  we  began  a  minute 
study  of  our  maps  and  the  precious  diagram  that 
Alice  had  copied  on  the  road.  The  chief  had  told 
us  that  we  could  not  join  our  own  regiment  owing 
to  the  fact  that  it  was  too  close  to  the  lines  and 
no  information  had  been  received  concerning  it 
since  it  marched  up.  He  said  he  would  send  a 
Y  man  to  look  after  its  needs  as  soon  as  the 
road  leading  to  St.  Benoit  was  in  any  way  safe 
to  traverse.  No  one  had  risked  passing  along  it 
in  the  daytime  as  it  could  be  seen  by  the  Germans 
and  was  in  direct  line  of  their  guns. 

We  knew  of  course  that  the  boys  would  be 
pretty  low  on  cigarettes,  etc.,  if  they  had  been  up 
there  three  days  without  supplies,  also  we  wanted 
to  get  to  our  own  regiment  if  possible  and  col- 
lect as  much  information  as  we  could  concerning 
the  needs  and  location  of  other  outfits. 

About  two  o'clock  we  started  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Thiacourt,  branching  off  at  Benny,  and  so 
on  along  the  road  to  St.  Benoit  and  the  148th. 
It  was  as  usual  a  dark,  threatening  day,  a  very 
good  war  setting,  and  as  we  met  no  one  for  a  long 
way,  we  weren't  stopped  or  questioned,  and  we 
just  walked  as  fast  as  we  could,  hoping  to  reach 
our  destination  and  shelter  before  the  evening 
shelling  started. 

After  leaving  St.  Benoit  we  noticed  a  camou- 
flaged net  stretched  over  the  deep  ditch  on  either 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  151 

side  of  the  road.  Cleverly  concealed  beneath 
were  the  big  guns  and  two  or  three  soldiers  in 
charge  of  each  one.  I'll  never  forget  the  look  of 
amazement  that  came  over  their  faces  when  they 
glanced  up  and  saw  four  feminine  heads  poked 
over  the  bank.  We  gave  them  some  newspapers 
we  had  brought  from  Toul  and  continued  drop- 
ping them  all  along  the  road  until  our  supply  was 
gone.  It  was  loads  of  fun.  We'd  drop  a 
Herald  on  their  heads  and  generally  the  men 
came  scrambling  up  for  a  bit  of  a  chat,  wanting 
to  know  how  we'd  ever  gotten  there  and  where 
"  in  'ell "  we  were  bound  for !  They  sent  us  on 
our  way  with  a  "  Best  of  luck  to  you !  " 

After  several  hours  we  arrived  at  St.  Benoit 
and  found  our  Regimental  Headquarters  in  the 
basement  of  the  ruined  Hotel  de  Ville.  The  Ad- 
jutant greeted  us  most  enthusiastically,  telling 
us  that  if  we  had  arrived  a  couple  of  hours  later 
we  shouldn't  have  found  them  as  they  were  mov- 
ing into  the  woods  that  night.  We  at  once  got 
busy  on  plans  and  he  assured  us  that  in  another 
day  the  regiment  would  be  settled  and  ready  for 
the  Y.  He  also  told  us  much  about  where  help 
was  most  needed  in  the  rest  of  the  Division  and, 
by  the  time  we  started  on  our  homeward  route, 
we  had  all  the  information  and  more,  that  we 
had  come  for. 

A  truck  picked  us  up  on  the  way  back  so  that 
we  got  in  before  any  one  had  begun  worrying 
about  us.    We  found  the  chief  and  all  the  Y  men 


152  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

gathered  around  the  maps  and  making  their 
plans.  Of  course  our  information  was  a  help  as 
none  of  them  had  been  over  the  ground  before 
and,  under  the  circumstances,  we  weren't  scolded 
for  haying  gone.  One  old  bird  raised  his  voice 
to  say  that  he  thought  it  outrageous  for  women 
to  be  at  the  Front  and  to  take  it  upon  themselves 
to  travel  on  roads  in  the  daytime  that  sensible 
people  didn't  risk  even  at  night.  However,  he 
was  hushed  up  and  we  were  told  we  could  leave 
for  our  regiment  and  their  woods  early  the  next 
morning,  which  was  all  we  wanted. 

That  night,  while  in  the  middle  of  a  delicious 
meal  of  canned  duck  and  green  peas  which  we 
had  brought  with  us,  we  experienced  our  first 
barrage.  The  shells  whistled  over  our  heads  and 
burst  somewhere  beyond  us.  Luckily  our  billet 
was  built  under  the  lee  of  the  hill,  so  we  were 
moderately  safe.  Of  course  there  was  so  much 
noise  that  it  was  hard  to  sleep,  but  then  none  of 
us  wanted  to  as  it  was  our  first  real  night  at  the 
Front. 

The  shells  kept  whistling  and  bursting  for 
about  three  hours  and  we  amused  ourselves  by 
trying  to  guess  what  part  of  the  town  was  being 
smashed. 

Nonsard  Woods,  October  12th,  1918. 
Alice  and  I  are  back  with  our  regiment  at  last 
and  Andy  and  Harriet  are  off  somewhere  in  the 
woods  near  here  with  their  company.    It's  a 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  153 

great  satisfaction  and  we  are  pretty  happy  to 
have  put  our  little  plan  through.  It  is  now  Octo- 
ber 12th,  so  we  have  been  on  the  road  almost  a 
week  since  we  left  the  Argonne.  It's  been  a  most 
interesting  and  amusing  trip  and  everywhere  we 
have  been  fortunate  in  getting  billets  in  over- 
crowded towns  and  villages,  where  high-rank  of- 
ficers had  besought  in  vain.  You  can't  imagine 
how  American  women  are  spoiled  over  here.  For 
the  last  five  nights  before  starting  up  from  Toul 
we  spent  the  dark  hours  in  a  different  town.  For 
some  unknown  reason  our  train  always  left  before 
light  and  never  arrived  till  well  after  dark.  We 
traveled  in  circles,  which  seems  to  be  the  ap- 
proved method  of  moving  troops,  and  so  have 
been  almost  a  week  covering  a  really  small  dis- 
tance. 

The  regiment  is  encamped  in  lovely  woods  and 
different  companies  take  turns  holding  the  lines 
which  are  only  a  few  kilometers  away.  Those 
companies  that  are  relieved  come  back  here  to 
rest  and  that's  where  our  work  comes  in.  The 
woods  are  marvelously  camouflaged  and  we  trust 
that  Jerry  cannot  see  the  winding  paths  and 
clearings  when  he  sails  about  overhead.  It  has 
only  been  a  short  time  since  the  Germans  were 
here  themselves,  so  of  course  we  are  at  a  bit  of  a 
disadvantage  as  they  know  these  woods  pretty 
well.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  wonderful  dug- 
outs and  log  cabins  they  made  for  themselves. 
Luckily  they  left  in  such  a  hurry  that  the  only 


154  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

harm  they  were  able  to  do  was  to  cut  all  the  elec- 
tric wires  —  even  the  dugouts  had  been  lighted 
with  electricity!  The  houses  themselves  are 
works  of  art,  beautifully  made  and  perfectly 
equipped,  including  hot  shower  baths,  wainscot- 
ted  walls,  rustic  furniture,  hanging  flower 
baskets,  everything  in  short  that  would  make  up 
a  fancy  Adirondack  camp.  Alice  and  I  are  bil- 
leted in  the  very  nicest  of  them  all.  It  is  a  cabin, 
stained  brown  on  the  inside  and  beautifully  fin- 
ished. The  outside  walls  and  roof  are  covered 
with  exquisite  green  moss.  It  must  have  taken 
weeks  to  have  completed  it  and  collect  the  moss 
which  is  appliqu(§d  on  to  the  wood  by  means  of 
wire  netting.  The  thick  growth  of  trees  all  about 
and  the  color  of  the  house  itself  makes  it  invisible 
from  above.  Our  little  room  is  almost  com- 
pletely furnished  with  chairs,  tables,  and  even 
beds  that  the  boys  have  salvaged  from  a  neighbor- 
ing dugout. 

The  Boches  left  in  such  a  hurry  that  the  in- 
coming Yanks  found  a  meal  cooking  on  their  fires 
and  lather  still  standing  in  the  shaving  mugs! 
Everything  under  the  sun  was  found  in  the  way 
of  luxuries  —  and  a  lot  of  women's  clothes,  shoes, 
hats,  etc.  I  don't  see  how  they  dared  have 
women  so  close  to  the  lines.  They  never  ex- 
pected to  have  to  move,  I  guess.  Every  indica- 
tion points  to  their  expectation  to  stay  and  live 
in  this  alluring  spot  under  the  trees  to  the  end  of 
the  war.    All  is  arranged  in  such  a  permanent 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  155 

fashion,  German  signs,  beautifully  printed  in 
wonderful  lettering  and  tacked  on  the  trees. 

I  wish  you  might  look  in  upon  us  at  this  mo- 
ment —  Alice  doing  a  bit  of  laundry  while  I  write 
at  the  table  by  the  light  of  three  fat,  prosperous 
candles.  Our  room  is  arranged  like  the  cabin 
on  a  ship,  cots  along  the  side,  two  tables  with 
wash  basins,  mess  kits,  etc.,  all  laid  out.  In  one 
corner  is  a  small  stove ;  it  has  a  ravenous  appetite 
for  dead  branches  and  is  the  joy  of  our  life.  Our 
clothes  form  a  tapestry  about  the  walls,  hanging 
as  they  do  from  numerous  nails.  We  have  one 
window  with  a  heavy  cardboard  curtain,  which 
slides  across  at  night,  keeping  the  light  inside 
where  it  belongs.  We  look  out  into  a  tangle  of 
reds  and  browns,  cut  here  and  there  by  paths 
covered  with  small  pine  logs  nailed  together. 
It's  all  like  some  strange  fairy  tale  and  I  feel  as 
though  I  were  dreaming. 

Besides  our  room,  the  cabin  contains  a  wee 
kitchen,  the  mess  room,  two  cooks,  the  Regimental 
Adjutant  and  his  orderly.  So  we  are  well  pro- 
tected. Every  one  is  endlessly  kind  and  nothing 
is  ever  too  much  trouble  to  do  for  us.  We  have 
been  given  an  army  cart,  a  couple  of  horses  and 
a  driver,  which  we  fill  daily  with  supplies  (not 
the  driver  but  the  cart)  and  trundle  around  from 
company  to  company  through  the  woods,  dis- 
tributing tobacco,  etc.  It  is  a  canteen  on  wheels 
this  time  and  we  are  enchanted  with  the  idea. 

We  weren't  allowed  to  have  a  stationary  can- 


156  CANTEENING  OVEESEAS 

teen  as  the  men  congregate  in  a  place  like  that 
and  we  are  too  near  the  lines.  Fritzie  would 
surely  get  wind  of  it,  find  out  our  location  and 
send  over  a  neat  little  shell  or  two. 

Alice  and  I  feel  just  like  gypsies,  as  we  spend 
most  of  our  waking  hours  in  our  high  cart,  jolting 
many  miles  a  day.  The  back  of  the  cart  has  steps 
that  let  down.  We  sit  on  the  top  step  and  sell 
from  the  stock  inside  the  cart.  There  is  gener- 
ally a  string  of  boys  following  behind  us  so  that 
when  we  stop  we  are  at  once  surrounded  by  a 
grinning,  cheerful  circle  of  khaki. 

It  is  beautiful  beyond  words  now  in  the  woods 
and  we  feel  as  though  living  in  a  stained  glass 
window.  When  mess  time  comes  we  stop  and  eat 
at  whatever  camp  we  happen  to  be.  Altogether 
it's  a  happy-go-lucky  sort  of  a  life  and  to  my 
mind  the  most  glorious  in  the  world. 

We  have  fixed  up  a  writing  and  reading  room 
in  a  cabin  near  our  own.  It  looks  so  "  comfy  " 
with  long  tables  and  easy  chairs  about  the  pret- 
tiest brick  fireplace  you  ever  saw.  It  was  once 
a  princely  Boche  officer's  bungalow,  and  he  evi- 
dently took  great  pains  with  it  for  the  ceiling  is 
raftered  and  a  monogram  and  imperial  crown  are 
painted  over  the  mantelpiece.  Along  each  side 
of  the  living  room  are  three  casement  windows. 
The  doors  at  the  end  open  on  to  a  rustic  terrace 
under  the  trees.  I  wish  I  had  pictures  to  send 
you  of  this  extraordinary  little  village  built  way 
off  in  the  deep  woods  miles  from  civilization. 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  157 

Yesterday  we  came  upon  a  regular  beer  garden 
—  lovely  little  benches  built  into  shady  nooks 
and,  in  a  central  place  a  summer  house  for  a 
band,  surrounded  by  flower  beds.  The  band 
stand  is  built  in  a  circle  and  made  of  pine 
branches  with  the  bark  left  on  —  a  ring  of  music 
stands,  an  expectant  group,  just  as  they  had  been 
left. 

Nonsard  Woods,  October  15th,  1918. 
Such  a  glorious  day  as  we've  had,  driving 
through  the  rainy  woods,  stopping  and  selling  at 
each  little  camp  and  then  on  again.  We  got  back 
after  dark,  soaking  wet  and  frozen,  but  were  soon 
warming  before  our  own  little  fire  and  telling 
each  other  that  no  one  else  in  the  world  ever  had 
such  luck  as  we,  which  all  goes  to  show  that  one 
should  never  count  one's  chickens.  At  that  mo- 
ment we  were  called  in  to  mess  and,  when  we  got 
there,  found  our  oflScers  giving  hurried  orders 
and  all  swallowing  their  suppers  whole.  In 
other  words,  our  entire  Division  is  once  more  on 
the  move.  Orders  came  this  afternoon  and  our 
happy  little  home  is  "  busted  up  " —  to  every  one's 
utter  disgust.  We've  done  nothing  but  move 
from  one  Front  to  the  other  for  the  past  five 
weeks.  Every  one  expected  we'd  stay  here  for  at 
least  a  month  and  of  course  after  the  recent  hard- 
ships no  one  was  averse  to  having  a  roof  and  a 
nice  stove  to  enjoy  for  awhile.  We  haven't  an 
idea  where  we're  going  but  most  every  one  seems 


158  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

to  think  that  it's  back  en  repos.  At  any  rate  it 
means  a  good  week  at  jaunting  about  before  we 
arrive  and  we  don't  especially  enjoy  the  prospect 
of  leaving  the  Front  for  some  S.  O.  S.  ( Service 
of  Supplies).  The  poor  boys  were  so  happy  at 
the  prospect  of  a  few  weeks  in  the  same  place 
and  are  crazy  about  these  woods,  even  if  they  are 
a  hot  spot  when  the  Boches  feel  "  peppy."  But 
this  army  doesn't  approve  of  leaving  anything  or 
any  one  in  one  place  more  than  a  second.  So  to- 
morrow we'll  be  packed  up  and  once  more  on  the 
road.  C'est  la  Guerre f^  And  now  I  must  crawl 
into  my  blanket  and  make  the  most  of  our  last 
night  here. 

Paris,  October  19th,  1918. 

One  certainly  never  knows  what  is  next  on  the 
program.  Here  we  are  back  in  Paris  and  our 
Division  has  gone  up  to  the  Flanders  Front,  the 
one  place  where  we  cannot  follow,  as  the  English 
do  not  allow  any  women  on  their  Front.  Of 
course  we  are  more  cut  up  than  I  can  say  but 
we  cannot  help  realizing  that  we  have  been  for- 
tunate beyond  our  wildest  dream  in  staying  with 
one  Division  on  three  different  fronts. 

It  was  a  wonderful  trip  in  from  the  lines  this 
last  time.  The  first  lap  was  made  by  camion 
through  a  sea  of  mud  to  the  nearest  railway, 
which  was  at  Bern^court,  the  way  we  had  come. 
From  there  we  were  to  take  the  next  train,  which 
runs  on  a  narrow  gauge  line  into  Toul.    When 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  159 

we  arrived  at  the  station,  or  what  remained  of  it 
(it  was  nothing  but  a  ruin  with  no  roof),  we 
found  we  had  four  hours  to  wait.  It  was  bitter 
cold,  already  getting  dark  and  the  usual  fine  driz- 
zle had  set  in.  We  decided  to  make  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  possible,  so  we  hunted  up  some 
wood  and  built  a  roaring  fire  on  the  debris  in  the 
middle  of  the  station.  In  a  few  moments  we  had 
our  little  cooking  things  out  and  some  of  Dad's 
sterno  heat  was  warming  up  the  food  we  always 
carry  with  us.  Tea,  bread,  canned  meat  and 
sweet  biscuit  made  a  very  ample  repast.  And, 
while  the  wind  howled  and  the  rain  beat  down, 
we  sat  cozily  under  our  ruined  shelter,  and  the 
fire  snapped  and  crackled  cheerily. 

The  French  soldiers  on  guard  along  the  tracks 
came  in  and  warmed  themselves  and  we  refilled 
their  pockets  with  cigarettes  and  chocolate.  In 
return  for  this  small  attention  they  escorted  our 
heavy  cots  and  bedding  rolls  on  board  the  toy 
train  when  it  arrived  and  were  altogether  most 
kind  and  helpful. 

We  got  into  Toul  well  after  midnight  and  be- 
gan walking  about,  trying  to  find  billets  which 
were,  as  always,  scarce  as  hen's  teeth.  Luckily 
for  us  we  ran  into  the  billeting  oflflcer,  who  guided 
us  to  a  Red  Cross  hospital,  where  an  angelic  nurse 
put  us  into  four  cots  with  real  sheets  on  them. 
We  slept  like  logs  until  five  when  we  made  the 
early  train  for  Paris. 

Now  we're  at  the  Continental,  every  other  place 


160  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

being  full,  and  are  reveling  in  hot  baths  and  soft 
beds. 

And  yet  how  we  wish  we  were  on  the  road  again 
following  that  muddy,  disheveled  regiment  of 
ours  into  Belgium ! 

Froidos,  (A.  P.  0.  927), 
October  28th,  1918. 

Her^  we  are,  very  nicely  settled  at  our  new 
post,  and  it  is  a  big  satisfaction  to  be  working 
again.  We  have  really  fallen  on  our  feet  this 
time  and  are  so  comfortably  fixed  that  we  can't 
believe  we're  not  dreaming.  Our  Y.  M.  C.  A.  is 
an  old  stable,  with  a  mud  floor  for  the  moment, 
but  very  soon  we  expect  to  get  an  American  bar- 
racks with  all  modem  conveniences,  including  a 
roof  and  a  plank  floor.  The  oflflcers  have  been 
simply  splendid.  The  place  needed  a  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
badly,  and  they  were  so  glad  to  see  us  that  they 
have  simply  turned  themselves  inside  out  to  make 
us  comfortable.  We  have  a  room  the  like  of 
which  we  haven't  seen  in  weeks.  It  contains  a 
real  bed,  a  large  mirror,  chairs,  and  various  hooks 
on  which  to  hang  our  clothes.  The  lady  who 
owns  this  place  brings  us  hot  water  every  morn- 
ing. I  don't  suppose  you  can  realize  what  that 
means  —  hot  water.  Even  in  Paris  it  is  an  ab- 
solutely unknown  quantity  except  on  Saturdays. 
We  haven't  been  so  clean  since  we  came  to 
France ! 

Our  domicile  has  already  taken  on  a  home-like 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  161 

aspect.  My  little  army  cot  is  set  up  in  one  cor- 
ner. Our  cooking  kit  is  all  laid  out,  etc.  It's 
great  to  have  a  place  we  can  call  our  own  tot 
more  than  half  a  minute!  This  is  what  they 
call  a  Replacement  Camp.  All  casuals  report 
here  and  get  reassigned  to  their  Divisions  —  after 
they  leave  the  hospitals.  Also  about  a  thousand 
men  per  day  come  out  of  the  lines  and  report 
here  for  a  day  or  two  of  rest  before  they  go  back 
in  again.  Most  of  them  are  worn  out,  suffering 
from  shell-shock,  gas,  etc.  Our  task  is  to  enter- 
tain and  feed  them  up  before  thej*  go  back. 
They're  a  pathetically,  appreciative  bunch,  very 
quiet  and  forlorn,  with  hollow  cheeks  and  large 
eyes.     It  all  makes  one's  heart  ache  for  them. 

Alice  and  I  have  a  Y  man  working  with  us ;  it's 
a  bigger  task  than  two  women  can  handle  alone. 
He  is  a  Methodist  minister  and  doesn't  approve 
of  selling  playing  cards  in  the  canteen!  Aside 
from  the  fact  of  his  being  a  bit  straight-laced,  he 
is  most  kind  and  nice  and  his  heart  is  in  the 
right  place.  Bo  I  am  sure  we  are  going  to  have  a 
mighty  interesting  time.  We  get  boys  from 
every  division  in  the  army  and  they  include  some 
of  my  beloved  marines.  Alice,  Mr.  C.  and  I  mess 
with  the  officers,  who  are  a  jolly  lot,  and  we  have 
very  good  food,  considering  the  fact  that  we  are 
so  far  away  from  supplies  of  any  sort. 

Froidos,  November  2nd,  1918. 
The  last  few  days  have  been  crowded  and  we 


162  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

have  been  in  the  canteen  from  morning  to  night. 
Our  line  forms  an  hour  before  we  open  in  the 
morning,  and,  by  the  time  we  unlock  the  doors  at 
nine,  the  string  of  boys  stretches  way  down  the 
street.  We  hate  to  have  them  stand  in  line  and 
wait  their  turn.  They  get  so  much  of  that  in  the 
army.  Everything  seems  to  be  a  waiting  line. 
They  have  to  line  up  for  inspection,  for  mess,  to 
be  paid,  etc.  But  it  seems  to  be  the  one  and  only 
way  to  handle  such  a  big  bunch,  and  they're  won- 
derfully good-natured  about  it  and  cheerfully 
wait  hours  for  the  sake  of  a  single  package  of 
cigarettes.  For  the  past  three  days  they  have 
filed  past  our  counter  in  a  never-ending  stream 
from  nine  in  the  morning  till  nine  at  night. 

Our  hut  is  a  stable-effect,  quite  picturesque  but 
that  damp  and  draughty.  We  are  negotiating 
for  the  French  Y  building,  as  it  is  scarcely  used 
and  is  very  grand,  with  a  wooden  floor  and  roof ! 
We  may  get  it  in  time.  The  red  tape  involved 
in  such  a  transaction  is  even  worse  than  in  the 
States,  so  we  are  hoping  to  have  our  new  home  by 
Christmas  perhaps. 

The  weather  has  come  off  very  cold  and  every- 
one is  already  bundled  up  to  the  ears.  I  have 
had  two  ancient  sweaters  dyed,  one  green  and 
one  purple.  They  look  good  as  new  and  are  a 
joy  to  my  economical  soul.  I  tell  you,  you  never 
appreciate  the  value  of  money  until  you  earn  it 
yourself. 

I  wish  you  could  see  us  at  mess.    These  offi- 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  163 

cers  with  whom  we  eat  are  mostly  older  men  and 
are  really  very  bright  and  clever.  They  tease 
and  "kid"  each  other  continually  so  that  our 
meals  are  quite  jolly  and  hilarious.  Every  one  is 
most  kind.  Both  boys  and  officers  do  everything 
in  the  world  for  us. 

One  Captain  is  particularly  amusing,  very  keen 
and  alive  but  tremendously  impressed  with  him- 
self. He  does  a  vast  amount  of  talking,  quoting 
all  his  celebrated  friends,  invariably  calling  them 
by  their  first  names.  He  told  me  last  night  that 
he  always  wore  spats  at  home!  So  you  know 
the  type.  With  all  his  funny  little  mannerisms 
he's  awfully  kind-hearted  and  just  as  funny  and 
bright  as  he  can  be  —  but  at  other  people's  ex- 
pense, I'm  afraid.  Woe  unto  the  person,  though, 
who  takes  him  off. 

Froidos,  A.  P.  O.  927,  A.  E.  F., 
November  5th,  1918. 

Yesterday  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  take  the 
truck  and  go  over  to  headquarters  for  supplies. 
Believe  me,  it  was  good  to  get  out  of  our  dark 
little  canteen  and  spend  three  glorious  hours  in 
the  sunshine.  My  idea  of  a  good  time  is  rushing 
through  the  clear  cold  air  on  the  front  seat  of  an 
army  truck,  the  seat  crowded  with  soldiers,  and 
more  soldiers  "  hooking  "  a  ride  on  the  back. 

Last  evening  the  scenery  was  impressive.  The 
road,  a  straight  ribbon  of  white,  stretched  for 
miles  before  one.    You  seemed  to  be  rushing 


164  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

right  into  a  sea  of  flaming  colors,  the  sunset,  with 
here  and  there  a  gaunt  poplar  by  the  side  of  the 
road,  tall  and  jet  black  against  the  sky.  As  we 
neared  our  little  village  the  light  had  faded  to  the 
most  exquisite  pale  shades  and  a  few  stars  began 
to  come  out  here  and  there  in  the  heavens.  Those 
moments  between  dusk  and  night  are  always  to 
me  the  most  precious  of  the  whole  day.  There 
is  something  wonderfully  mysterious  about  them. 
The  trivial  things  of  life  seem  very  distant  and 
somehow  God  and  the  Infinite  very  close.  At 
such  times  those  who  have  gone  on  to  a  higher 
life  are  all  about  one  alid  it  is  easier  to  reconcile 
one's  self  to  their  going. 

Froidos,  November  6th,  1918. 

It  is  hard  to  realize  that  I  have  been  away  six- 
teen months,  and  more.  In  a  way  it  seems  a  life 
time  and  then  again  it  seems  only  yesterday  that 
I  walked  down  that  gang  plank  alone,  leaving 
all  your  dear  faces,  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence. 
What  a  world  of  experience  I  moved  into  when  I 
walked  down  that  narrow  plank.  I  can  see  you 
all  now  as  you  looked  last  —  and  then  a  blank 
until  we  were  steaming  out  of  the  harbor  and  into 
a  glorious  horizon  of  sea  and  sunset  sky.  My! 
how  small  and  alone  one  Mani  felt  then.  I  kept 
wondering  how  I  had  ever  decided  to  take  such  a 
large  step.  Sixteen  months  and  more,  holding  O 
so  much  of  wondersome  joy  and,  yes,  a  lot  of  pain. 
One  can't  live  close  to  earth  without  that  an^, 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FEONT  165 

after  all,  one  would  not  have  it  otherwise.  I 
guess  it  has  made  me  older  than  I  am.  Life 
seems  to  have  fallen  all  over  itself  to  give  me  ex- 
periences of  every  sort  and  kind  and  it  has  all 
come  in  the  last  three  years.  I  don't  suppose 
many  people  have  the  privilege  of  such  a  variety 
of  happenings  in  so  short  a  time. 

The  peace  talk  has  filled  our  minds  and  hearts 
with  thoughts  of  home  and  family.  We  hope  it 
won't  come  before  it  can  be  one  we  can  fairly  ac- 
cept. Nevertheless  our  plans  are  already  form- 
ing and  we  can  see  ourselves  sailing  into  New 
York  harbor  with  a  big  thrill  and  a  doting  family 
waving  on  the  wharf.  At  that  point  one  gets  so 
excited  that  the  only  thing  to  prevent  spontane- 
ous combustion  is  several  stiff  hours  of  work  and 
a  hundred  or  so  gallons  of  chocolate  to  make !  Of 
course  no  one  really  expects  peace  at  once  and 
even  after  it  comes  in  the  form  of  armistice  we 
shall  not  be  released  right  away.  However,  the 
home  going  is  in  sight,  even  though  the  Y  has  a 
good  deal  of  power  over  us.  I  am  one,  if  not  the 
oldest,  of  its  daughters  in  France,  in  time  of  serv- 
ice, and  feel  so  attached  to  it  that  I  couldn't  go 
back  till  "  it's  all  over  but  the  shouting.'' 

Froidos,  November  8th,  1918. 
Yesterday  afternoon,  about  three  o'clock,  a  sol- 
dier rushed  into  the  canteen  and  said  a  report 
had  come  to  Headquarters  that  the  Germans  had 
quit,  coming  over  in  four  different  places  along 


166  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

the  Front  with  white  flags.  Naturally  no  one 
believed  the  tale  at  the  time  and  the  poor  soldier 
was  unmercifully  "  kidded."  However,  the  re- 
ports continued  to  come  in  and  the  French  now 
insist  that  la  guerre  est  finie.  Personally  I  sim- 
ply cannot  believe  it  and  a  lot  of  the  American 
boys  are  skeptical  too.  We  have  had  so  many 
false  alarms,  and  it  really  seems  too  altogether 
wonderful  to  be  true.  We  ought  to  know  defi- 
nitely to-day  whether  it  is  so.  Most  of  our  offi- 
cers feel  that  it  is. 

One  of  the  boys  said  the  other  day :  "  The  Ger- 
mans say  '  God  is  with  us.'  But  if  He  is,  He 
sure  must  be  A.  W.  O.  L."  (absent  without 
leave). 

We  have  moved  our  Y  into  another  larger 
stable  with  more  light  and  have  had  terrific 
crowds  all  the  time  during  the  past  few  days. 
Luckily  we  had  moved  and  were  better  able  to 
handle  them  in  the  larger  place.  Alice  and  I  are 
living  with  a  peasant  family,  consisting  of 
Mother,  Father,  little  Daughter  and  Grand- 
mother. The  little  girl  is  about  nine  years  old 
and  is  the  most  beautiful  child  I  have  seen  in 
France.  She  looks  like  a  thoroughbred  and  a 
bit  out  of  place  among  her  family.  At  night, 
when  we  come  home,  she  is  invariably  sitting  be- 
fore the  huge  fireplace.  She  has  thick,  wavy 
hair,  reaching  to  her  waist,  and  in  the  firelight  it 
looks  like  spun  gold;  one  can't  help  thinking  of 
Cinderella.     She  always  sits  on  a  wee  stood  at 


THE  ST.  MIHIEL  FRONT  167 

one  side  of  the  fireplace,  with  a  little  bowl  of 
bread  and  milk  on  her  lap. 

These  people  have  been  perfectly  wonderful  to 
us  and  do  everything  to  make  us  comfortable. 
After  our  sojourns  in  ruined  towns,  with  no 
civilians  in  them,  you  can  fancy  how  spoiled  and 
pampered  we  feel. 

As  I  write,  a  group  of  excited  soldiers  have 
gathered  outside.  French  and  Americans  are 
calling  to  each  other  along  the  street :  "  Finish  la 
guerre,"  which  is  now  the  one  expression  they 
know  in  American  French!  Peace  rumors  con- 
stitute the  most  devilish  propaganda  the  Boche 
devils  can  invent  and  so  we  must  not  believe  any- 
thing but  official  announcements. 

Froidos,  November  11th,  1918. 

Peace!  Peace  at  last  and  what  a  variety  of 
emotions  it  brings  with  it ! 

In  the  first  place  it  is  almost  impossible  to  be- 
lieve it.  After  so  long  it  seems  incredible  that 
the  war  should  ever  end ! 

The  wonderful  news  began  coming  in  last  night 
and  all  this  morning  it  has  been  pouring  in 
through  every  source,  the  wireless,  the  telegraph 
and  the  telephone  especially.  The  wires  must 
be  fairly  bursting  with  the  magnitude  of  the 
words  they  carry. 

About  noon  to-day  an  authentic  report  came  in 
and  at  once  the  American  locomotive  that  goes 
past  here  up  farther  front,  began  blowing  its 


168  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

whistle  violently  and  dashing  madly  up  and  down 
the  track.  At  the  same  time  the  church  bells  for 
miles  around  started  ringing  and  our  band  came 
marching  down  the  village  street  playing  as  it 
had  never  played  before. 

In  one  moment  our  Y  stable  was  emptied. 
Alice  and  I  stood  idle  behind  our  counter,  speech- 
lessly looking  at  each  other  and  trying  to  take  it 
all  in.  The  street  outside  was  jammed  with  mobs 
of  yelling  soldiers,  crazy  with  joy.  All  were 
sht)oting  off  their  rifles  and  automatics  and  shout- 
ing until  they  were  hoarse. 

Somehow  I  didn't  feel  like  yelling.  It  all  goes 
so  deep  and  the  great  relief  and  joy  make  one 
silent. 

We  closed  the  Canteen  and  walked  home.  The 
soldiers  were  buying  up  all  the  champagne  and 
other  wine  in  the  village  for  a  mammoth  celebra- 
tion. 

When  we  reached  our  billet,  we  found  our  little 
French  Madame,  her  husband  and  the  old  grand- 
mother clustered  around  the  kitchen  table,  their 
heads  bowed,  crying  silently.  The  French  are 
thankful  it's  over  but,  with  the  joy,  comes  the 
realization  of  the  price  that  has  been  paid.  This 
little  family  has  given  much  and  all  the  peace  in 
the  world  cannot  make  them  forget  those  who 
will  never  come  home. 

Words  are  useless  things  at  such  big  times. 
I'm  all  tangled  up  and  cannot  write  anything 
consecutive. 


THE  ST.  MIHli]L  FRONT  169 

When  we  came  in  to  luncheon  the  officers  were 
sending  their  orderlies  for  champagne.  Hun- 
dred-franc notes  were  tossed  across  the  table  like 
so  much  paper.  Of  course  we  all  had  to  drink  to 
the  Great  Day  —  altogether  a  very  joyful  meal. 

Every  American  is  one  broad  grin  from  ear  to 
ear.  The  darkies  especially  are  all  teeth  and 
gleaming  eyeballs.  It  does  one  good  to  be  in 
such  a  happy  world. 

As  we  walked  home  to-night  the  moon  came 
out  from  behind  the  clouds.  Just  think,  it  looks 
down,  at  last,  upon  a  land  devoid  of  strife.  Its 
light  is  no  longer  a  menace  and  I  hope  it  is  cast- 
ing an  especial  radiance  upon  the  graves  up  at 
the  Front. 

You  can't  imagine  how  strange  it  all  seems. 
The  night  is  absolutely  still.  Great  flares  illum- 
inate the  sky  in  the  direction  of  the  Front,  but 
the  big  guns  are  quiet.  There  is  not  a  sound  ex- 
cept for  an  occasional  pistol  shot  now  and  then, 
fired  by  some  hilarious  American.  It  is  all  weird 
and  incredible. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

VERDUN 

Froidos,  November  14th,  1918. 

I  wonder  how  the  news  affected  you  all.  I  im- 
£^ine  much  the  same  as  it  has  every  one  —  a  deep 
joy,  an  infinite  relief,  but  below,  through  and 
above  it  all  a  note  of  sadness  that  no  happiness 
can  quite  efface. 

The  realization  that  peace  has  actually  come 
is  beginning  to  filter  through,  and  I  have  been 
wondering  how  soon  my  usefulness,  small  though 
it  is,  will  be  over.  Of  course  it  depends  largely 
upon  how  long  they  keep  the  boys  over  here. 
While  the  Army  is  here  the  Y  has  its  work  cut 
out  for  it  —  infinitely  more  and  harder  work  than 
when  two  million  lads  were  fighting  day  and 
night.  Now  they  will  have  to  be  entertained  as 
never  before. 

This  amusing  little  bit  was  given  me  to-day  by 
a  mischievous  doughboy  as  a  sly  crack  at  what 
some  of  the  boys  consider  to  be  the  doctrines  of 
theY: 

I 

My  parents  told  me  not  to  smoke, — 

I  don't. 

Nor  listen  to  a  naughty  joke, — 

I  don't. 
170 


VERDUN  171 

They  made  it  clear  I  mustn't  wink 
At  pretty  girls;  or  even  think 
About  intoxicating  drink, — 

I  don't. 

II 

To  flirt  or  dance  is  very  wrong  — 

I  don't. 

Wild  youths  chase  women,  wine  and  song  — 

I  don't. 

I  kiss  no  girls,  not  even  one,  : 

I  do  not  know  how  it  is  done; 

You  wouldn't  think  I'd  have  much  fun  — 

I  don't. 

Alice  and  I  are  packed  and  sitting  on  our  bed- 
ding rolls ;  waiting  for  the  truck  that  is  to  move 
us  and  our  belongings  to  another  place.  Our 
usefulness  here  is  at  an  end,  as  the  Replacement 
Camp,  to  which  we  were  attached,  has  moved  to 
merge  itself  with  several  others  into  an  enormous 
affair.  This  all  happened  very  quickly  —  over 
night  almost,  and  suddenly  our  little  village  is 
an  empty  and  lonely  place.  We  were  asked  to 
follow  along  and  to  open  up  the  new  Y  for  the 
bigger  camps,  but  our  regional  boss  had  other 
and  better  plans  for  us.  We  are  going  further 
Front  —  about  forty  kilometers,  and  we're  not  a 
little  pleased  to  go  into  the  famous  places  so  re- 
cently the  scenes  of  heavy  fighting.  Naturally, 
now  that  the  Armistice  is  signed,  there  are  no 
more  bombs,  guns,  shells,  gas  —  in  fact  no  dan- 
ger at  all.  The  country  up  there  is  swarming 
with  troops  and  there  is  a  tremendous  need  for 


172  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

Y's  everywhere  at  once.  We  do  not  expect  to  stay 
long  in  any  one  place.  We  will  doubtless  work 
up  slowly  toward  Germany,  setting  up  temporary 
canteens  as  we  go.  I  understand  that  some  of 
the  Y  people  will  go  into  Germany  with  the  troops 
of  occupation.  We  aren't  saying  it,  even  to  each 
other,  but  we  are  hoping  hard  that  we  may  be 
among  the  fortunate  ones. 

Verdun,  November  18th,  1918. 

We  are  in  perhaps  the  most  famous  city  of  the 
war,  up  to  our  ears  in  work  but  very  well.  This 
is  a  marvelous  place  and  the  most  interesting  yet. 
I  have  never  worked  so  hard.  There  is  great  con- 
gestion of  troops  and  they  need  food.  It's  all 
very  thrilling  —  the  city  the  most  extraordinary 
ruin,  packed  full  of  pathos,  atmosphere  and  color. 
We  haven't  an  idea  of  how  long  we  shall  be  here 
—  a  few  days  may  see  us  on  the  move  again,  per- 
haps to  Boche  lands,  though  this  is  a  bit  problem- 
atical. In  the  meantime  I  don't  suppose  we  have 
ever  been  as  useful  and  the  experience  is  great. 

British,  French  and  our  own  boys,  ex-prisoners 
in  Germany,  are  pouring  through  every  day. 
They  come  in  batches.  As  soon  as  a  batch  has 
passed  the  lines  the  word  comes  from  the  military 
authorities.  We  women  drop  whatever  may  be 
the  work  of  the  moment  for  the  infinitely  more 
important  one  of  meeting  these  pathetic  beings 
which  the  Germans  are  returning  to  us.  They 
are  of  all  degrees.    Our  own  boys,  having  more 


VERDUN  173 

recently  been  captured,  show  least  the  signs  of 
their  privations,  although  grateful  for  the  little 
we  can  do.  Each  boy  is  given  a  bundle  con- 
taining chocolate,  cigarettes,  chewing  tobacco,  a 
New  York  Herald,  but,  of  all,  most  eagerly  pock- 
eted, are  sheets  of  writing  paper. 

Last  night  I  took  my  chocolate  containei*s  — 
and  a  chance  reverend  gentleman  —  to  the  bar- 
racks filled  with  released  British  prisoners  and 
spent  some  hours  pouring  gallons  of  the  "hot- 
test "  down  the  throats  of  Tommies,  and  I  can't 
describe  the  suppressed  excitement  of  these 
gaunt,  hollow-eyed  boys,  all  eagerness  to  help,  to 
collect  kindling,  to  open  cans,  any  excuse  that 
would  give  them  a  glimpse  of,  if  not  a  word  with, 
what  for  them  seemed  scarcely  a  reality, —  an 
English-speaking  woman.  There  were  no  mess- 
kits.  These  lads  had  nothing;  even  their  uni- 
forms—  could  you  call  them  such  —  were  a 
medley  of  English,  German,  French,  odds  and 
ends  of  civilian  clothing,  everything.  They  were 
barely  covered  and  shivering  as  they  came  with 
all  kinds  of  impromptu  cups  and  cans  to  receive 
their  chocolate.  There  was  a  marked  lack  of 
greedy  shoving,  a  dignity  and  quiet  gratitude,  and 
often  a  second  cup  apologetically  presented  lest 
it  be  misunderstood  and  explained  as  intended 
for  a  comrade  too  spent  to  come  himself.  I  have 
had  so  many  emotions,  that  at  present  I  have 
reached  an  absolutely  numb  state.  Really  it  is 
a  hectic  life,  this,  and  I  begin  to  wonder  anew 


174  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

whether  I  was  ever  a  civilized  human  before. 
We  have  literally  worked  like  dogs,  beginning  at 
8.30  A.  M.  and  continuing  long  after  dark,  and 
even  so  haven't  been  able  to  reach  every  one. 
To-night  we  had  to  close  down  in  the  face  of 
some  four  hundred  soldiers  —  all  clamoring  for 
cigarettes,  etc. 

It  seems  a  hopeless  job,  trying  to  supply  all 
the  army.  There  are  six  divisions  near  this  city, 
not  to  mention  these  prisoners  by  the  thousands 
pouring  in  all  the  time. 

Alice  and  I  are  the  only  women  here  except  for 
a  lady  who  arrived  last  night  and  who  is  running 
a  mammoth  hot  chocolate  joint  at  what  used  to 
be  the  Verdun  station.  We  three  are  living  in  a 
small  room,  with  a  roof  over  it  and  a  fireplace  in 
it  —  the  one  such  remaining  in  the  city.  Our 
furniture  consists  of  broken  chairs  and  tables, 
salvaged  from  the  wreckage  all  about  us,  and  is 
a  great  conglomeration  of  elegant,  slightly  dam- 
aged bits  that  we  have  found  standing  about  in 
corners  and  among  piles  of  ruins. 

At  present  we  have  no  work  so  I've  been  get- 
ting up  at  the  crack  of  dawn  to  help  one  of  our 
men  fix  the  coffee  and  cook  the  rice  and  bacon 
which  starts  thirty  Y'ers  on  their  daily  round  of 
work.  You  can't  imagine  the  bitter  cold,  and 
especially  at  6  in  the  morning.  I  creep  out  of 
my  cot  and  down  the  ruined  stairs  to  a  well  in  the 
garden  —  it's  a  deep  well  and  I  stand  and  chatter 


THE   PROSPECT  FOR  A  CANTEEN   IN  THE   FINEST 
HOUSE   IN   TOWN 


VERDUN  1T5 

until  the  brimming  bucket  comes  up,  which  con- 
tains our  daily  supply  of  water. 

Every  morning  Alice  and  I  wash  in  the  water 
from  our  hot  water  bags  —  it  has  generally  kept 
a  tiny  bit  of  warmth  and  isn't  as  icy  as  the  water 
from  the  well. 

At  eight-thirty  the  Canteen  opens  and  from 
then  until  dark  we  are  kept  hopping.  We  have 
taken  a  ruined  room,  filled  it  with  supplies  and 
serve  through  the  broken  window  to  a  line  of 
boys  that  stretches  down  the  street  for  blocks 
arid,  if  it  ends,  ends  somewhere  around  a  comer. 
The  extreme  cold  has  made  it  a  bit  diflftcult  as  we 
are  practically  out  of  doors  and  one  gets  quite 
numb  and  unable  to  wait  on  the  boys  as  fast 
as  is  necessary.  Luckily  at  the  back  of  our 
ruined  room  is  a  dilapidated  fire  place  where 
rubbish,  packing  cases,  etc.,  can  be  burned.  Alice 
and  I  take  turns  at  the  window  and  thaw  out  at 
intervals  by  the  fire. 

Yesterday  an  awfully  funny  thing  happened. 
It  was  very  cold.  I  had  been  serving  at  the  win- 
dow for  some  time,  so  that  when  my  turn  came  to 
warm  myself  I  was  so  numb  I  hardly  felt  the  heat 
at  all.  I  therefore  stood  as  close  to  the  blaze  as 
possible,  conversing  the  while  with  a  crowd  of 
doughboys  who  were  sitting  around.  Suddenly 
a  strange  odor  filled  the  room  and  we  found  that 
I  had  burned  off  the  whole  back  of  my  skirt.  I 
was  so  cold  I  never  knew  it!    We  almost  died 


176  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

laughing,  although  it  was  my  only  uniform  skirt. 
I'm  still  wearing  it  as  the  front  is  perfectly  good 
and  the  back  a  marvel  of  patching,  the  cloth 
being  fastened  together  with  adhesive  tape  from 
a  Red  Cross  kit. 

A  day  or  so  ago  we  were  told  that  two  famous 
preachers  would  join  our  stafif  for  a  few  days,  as 
they  were  touring  the  Front  in  a  Packard  car 
and  couldn't  go  back  to  Paris  without  seeing  Ver- 
dun. Every  one  was  furious  —  we  haven't 
enough  food  to  feed  ourselves  and  no  time  to 
show  sightseers  about.  Also  we  needed  help  in 
the  shape  of  strong  hands  and  willing  feet  and 
not  a  pair  of  "  sky  pilots  "  on  a  Packard  car. 

To-day  they  arrived  and  have  proved  the  best 
sports  imaginable.  They  are  Dr.  Maitland  Alex- 
ander of  Pittsburgh  and  Dr.  Ross  Stevenson  of 
Princeton.  Alice  and  I  put  them  to  work  sweep- 
ing out  the  debris  in  the  canteen  and  opening 
packing  cases,  and  we've  never  had  such  eflScient 
help.  The  Packard  car  has  been  used  like  a 
common  truck  to  cart  supplies.  As  for  its  own- 
ers, one  would  never  connect  these  two  laborers 
with  a  pulpit.  Dr.  Alexander  is  the  rosiest, 
roundest,  j oiliest  of  mortals,  has  helped  me 
cook  our  unappetizing  food,  has  dosed  us  all 
with  a  delicious  non-prohibition  cough  medicine, 
and  altogether  has  won  the  heart  of  every  one. 

To-morrow  he  is  to  be  taught  prices  and  will 
help  me  in  the  canteen  while  Alice  is  to  be  re- 
leased to  fix  up  a  dilapidated  room  which  was 


VERDUN  177 

found  to-day  as  a  reading  and  writing  place  for 
the  boys. 

I'ye  never  seen  anything  like  this  town.  Most 
of  it  is  smashed  to  pulp,  fascinating,  in  its  utter 
ruin,  strangely  beautiful.  The  Cathedral  is  still 
standing,  though  badly  riddled  with  large  shell 
holes,  through  which  the  sun  streams  in  round 
shots  of  golden  light.  Yesterday  they  had  High 
Mass  to  celebrate  the  Armistice.  I  stepped  in  for 
a  moment,  to  find  the  place  absolutely  packed 
with  soldiers,  representing  almost  all  the  Allied 
armies.  The  inside  of  the  church  is  in  ruins 
but  the  outside  is  still  practically  intact.  As 
I  came  in,  the  priests,  in  their  long  robes,  were 
getting  ready  to  celebrate  mass.  A  number  of 
generals  and  high  officials  were  grouped  near  the 
altar  and  behind  them,  and  as  far  as  one  could 
see,  were  masses  of  varied  colored  uniforms. 
As  the  military  band  struck  up  the  Marseil- 
laise, hundreds  of  heads  were  uncovered.  I  sim- 
ply can't  describe  it  —  quite  the  most  stirring 
thing  I  have  seen  or  heard.  The  enormous  num- 
ber, the  place,  the  music,  the  winter  sunshine 
streaming  through  the  ruins,  and  at  the  end  the 
Star  Spangled  Banner! 

Verdun,  November  23rd,  1918. 

We  are  living  in  primitive  fashion.     I  have 

looked  messy  in  my  day  but  certainly  nothing 

like  this.     It  is  so  bitter  cold  that  we  don't  dare 

undress  at  night  and  we  wear  the  same  clothes 


178  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

day  and  night.  Alice  and  I  have  donned  ghastly 
dark  blue  shirts,  warranted  to  last  weeks  without 
washing  and  without  showing  the  dirt! 

I  wish  you  could  see  the  little  room  which 
makes  up  our  present  home.  The  New  York 
Herald  is  carefully  pasted  across  the  glassless 
window  frame,  so  we  are  living  in  comparative 
luxury.  The  only  drawback  is  that  the  room 
is  about  nine  by  twelve  and  now  four  Y  ladies 
sleep  in  it  —  and  also  any  other  females  who  get 
stranded  in  Verdun  over  night.  The  room  is 
actually  the  only  habitable  one  in  the  city. 
Therefore  it  has  become  a  small  hotel.  The 
floor  is  generally  covered  with  femmes  rolled  up 
in  borrowed  blankets  and  it  makes  us  feel  a  bit 
like  a  tenement  house. 

To-night  I  went  down  into  the  underground 
city  for  dinner.  The  French  are  running  a  regu- 
lar restaurant  far  below  the  surface,  and,  being 
a  bit  warm,  it  is  jammed.  The  food  is  most 
simple,  and  yet  I  don't  see  where  they  get  it. 
The  subterranean  rooms  are  marvelous,  finished 
in  tile  and  brick,  a  city  so  far  beneath  the  ruins 
up  topside  as  to  remain  unreached  by  the  storm 
which,  for  more  than  four  years,  has  broken  un- 
ceasingly upon  the  shattered  town  above.  Aside 
from  this  descent  into  the  depths,  I  have  seen 
little  of  the  city  and  none  of  that  circle  of  its 
guardian  forts.  However,  there  isn't  time  for 
everything. 

Back  from  choWj  and  back  to  the  end  of  the 


VERDUN  179 

day's  work,  couirting  the  canteen  cash,  mending 
all  the  torn  bills  and  pinning  them  into  piles  of 
ten.  Perhaps  you  can  imagine  what  becomes  of 
scrip  and  bills  which  have  figured  prominently 
in  who  knows  how  many  crap  games,  been  rolled 
into  balls,  squeezed  in  hot  hands,  thrust  into 
pockets,  and  which  come  to  us  in  pieces  and  tat- 
ters. It  is  the  worst  money  I  have  ever  seen,  due 
largely  I  think  to  the  fact  that  the  Y  has  become 
noted  for  accepting  any  derelict  offered,  provided 
only  it  comes  torn  in  no  more  than  two  pieces ! 

For  some  days  there  have  been  hanging  about 
the  reading  room  several  officers  of  rank  and  time 
to  spare,  scowled  upon  by  enlisted  men  and  al- 
ways underfoot.  These  gentlemen  of  leisure 
have  lately  found  themselves  seated  about  the 
room  lapping  gummed  paper  and  with  it 
tediously  piecing  my  dirty  money  together,  or 
staggering  through  the  long  columns  of  figures 
constituting  the  day's  remittances  from  the  A. 
E.  F.  to  families  and  friends  at  home.  The 
doughboys'  scowl  has  melted  to  a  triumphant 
grin  at  the  delectable  vision  of  himself,  idle,  ob- 
serving his  officer  at  work. 

This  reading  room  of  Alice's  is  really  attrac- 
tive. She  has  pasted  papers  in  the  windows, 
cleared  out  the  loose  plaster,  stuck  posters  on 
the  walls  and  actually  has  some  flowers  on  the 
little  mantlepiece.  She  found  the  flowers  in  a 
sheltered  corner  of  an  old  garden.  Rough  tables 
and  chairs  have  been  made  and  put  in,  and  yes- 


180  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

terday  the  chief  came  back  from  our  warehouse 
at  Ippecourt  with  some  magazines  and  a  victrola. 
The  little  room  is  so  packed  by  day  that  it  seems 
incredible  another  mortal  could  squeeze  in.  Yet, 
at  night,  somehow  it  is  twice  as  full.  No  inch 
of  floor  is  visible.  The  atmosphere  is  blue. 
Through  the  babel  of  voices  and  shuffle  of  feet,  the 
victrola  is  repeating  for  the  thousandth  time  to- 
day, "  Around  her  neck,  she  wears  a  yellow  rib- 
bon,—  She  wears  it  for  her  lover  who  is  fur,  fur 
away." 

Now  for  a  good  night's  sleep.  At  night  I  put 
on,  over  my  clothes,  two  sweaters,  woolen  stock- 
ings, a  pair  of  bed  socks  and  a  woolly  wrapper. 
My  cot  is  made  up  with  five  pairs  of  blankets  and 
my  leather-and-fur  coat  spread  over  the  top! 
Even  with  all  this  we  get  cold.  It  is  freezing 
just  now  and  that  penetrating  damp  sweeps 
through  everything. 


CHAPTER  IX 

GERMANY 

En  Route  to  Germany, 
December  24th,  1918. 

It  seems  a  strange  way  to  spend  Christmas 
Eve.  Here  we  are  jolting  along,  jumping  out  at 
every  station  to  get  a  cup  of  coffee  and  what 
bread  and  cheese  we  can  find.  However,  we  are 
having  a  glorious  time. 

In  our  compartment  is  an  Irish  preacher,  the 
most  amusing  and  original  old  duffer  you  ever 
saw.  He  says  he  was  a  prohibitionist  until  he 
came  to  France,  but  it  is  very  easy  to  see  that  he 
isn't  one  now ! 

We've  just  passed  through  Pont-^-Mousson  and 
the  landscape  takes  on  the  aspect  of  complete 
and  utter  devastation.  The  little  villages 
through  which  we  pass  are  heaps  of  ruin.  The 
few  houses  that  are  left  standing  have  been  bit- 
ten into  by  huge  shell  holes ;  round  chunks  have 
been  blown  out  of  the  walls  and  roofs  and  through 
these  one  sees  a  vista  of  country,  or  a  branch  or 
two  and  a  patch  of  sky.  It's  terribly,  horribly 
picturesque  in  its  way,  the  crumbling  stone  and 
tile  having  taken  on  exquisite  tones.     Scarcely  a 

181 


182  CANTEENING  OVEESEAS 

human  in  sight  and  certainly  no  women  for  miles 
and  miles.  A  way  back  we  saw  a  solitary  figure 
standing  in  his  little  garden  patch.  He  was  look- 
ing pensively  at  a  house  —  a  tipsy  looking  object 
reeling  to  one  side  and  gazing  back  at  him  from 
hollow,  black  eyes  which  once  were  windows. 
There  is  something  uncanny  in  the  human  at- 
titude of  these  houses.  I  remember  three  at  Ver- 
dun especially.  They  looked  as  if  they  had  been 
hit  on  every  side  at  once,  and  in  their  terror  had 
fallen  toward  each  other  for  moral  support;  the 
roofs  were  caved  in  and  not  a  square  yard  of  the 
walls  but  what  was  covered  with  scars  and  shell 
holes,  and  yet  there  they  stand,  no  one  sees  quite 
how,  unless  it  be  that  they  hold  each  other  up 
with  their  shattered  frames. 

Later. 

We  have  crossed  the  border  into  Germany.  It 
is  another  land ;  instead  of  desolation  and  ruin, 
a  countryside  untouched  and  unhurt  by  the  hand 
of  war.  Nothing  could  look  better  kept  and  more 
prosperous  than  these  well-groomed  vineyards 
and  fertile  fields  through  which  we  are  passing. 
After  six  months  in  mutilated  northern  France, 
it  makes  one's  blood  boil  to  enter  this  sleek  land 
and  look  upon  this  people,  complacent  and  com- 
fortable in  their  guilt. 

Some  one  certainly  stopped  the  war  in  the  nick 
of  time  to  save  their  precious  skins.  Had  we  but 
been  allowed  to  push  on  another  week,  to  carry 


GERMANY  183 

the  war  into  Germany  and  to  have  given  them  a 
taste  of  their  own  medicine! 

Army  of  Occupation, 
Coblenz,  Germany, 
December  27th,  1918. 

Actually  on  the  Rhine  —  and  already 
swamped  with  work.  To  our  surprise  we 
weren't  stoned  or  spat  at  when  we  arrived.  On 
the  contrary,  every  German  citizen  from  the  age 
of  one  to  one  hundred  is  laying  himself  or  her- 
self out  to  be  kind  to  us.  The  streets  are  filled 
with  a  curious  though  not  hostile  population. 
Curious  indeed  —  I  have  never  been  so  stared  at 
in  all  my  life ;  if  I  stop  to  speak  to  any  one  on 
the  street,  it  is  a  sign  for  an  immediate  gathering 
of  all  the  small  fry,  not  to  mention  the  large. 

The  ordinary  doughboy  is  enchanted  beyond 
words  by  this  cordial  reception  and,  in  a  defiant 
tone,  talks  about  the  wonderful  spirit  with  which 
Americans  have  been  received.  Naturally,  any 
one  who  does  a  bit  of  thinking  can  see  through 
any  assumed  manner  of  deference  and  generosity 
on  Fritzie's  part.  I  think  most  of  the  Y  and  all 
the  oflftcers  of  the  Army  of  Occupation  realize 
that  we  are  up  against  the  most  insidious  piece 
of  propaganda  that  has  ever  been  launched.  It 
really  is  a  serious  proposition  and  one  that 
causes,  I  should  suppose,  a  great  deal  of  anxiety 
in  inner  circles.  It  is  said  that  the  children  in 
the  schools  are  taught  daily  to  do  everything  in 


184  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

their  power  to  be  cordial  and  kind  to  the  Ameri- 
can soldier,  but  by  no  word  or  act  to  make  him 
feel  that  Germany  is  a  conquered  nation.  Thus 
even  the  children  play  their  part.  The  grown- 
ups learn  the  same  lesson  from  various  sources, 
chief  among  them  the  Church.  We  understand 
that  the  sermons  are  written  with  this  end  in 
view. 

An  American  we  know  had  the  experience  of 
entering  Coblenz  before  the  German  army  had 
retired  and  saw  it  march  out,  bands  playing, 
flags  flying,  wreaths  of  roses  around  the  necks  of 
the  soldiers,  the  houses  decorated  with  garlands 
and  the  streets  packed  with  a  cheering,  joyful 
population,  shouting  and  acclaiming  the  glorious 
heroes  of  Germany,  namely  its  unspeakable  army. 
Really  a  most  extraordinary  point  of  view. 

As  to  their  false  cordiality  to  us,  the  Fritzies 
play  it  well.  They  work  their  way  into  our  sol- 
diers' hearts  by  asking  them  into  their  parlors 
(like  the  spider  and  the  fly)  and  feeding  them 
with  German  cakes  and  polite  speeches.  The 
beer  also  is  cheaper  than  in  France  and  the  towns, 
unlike  those  in  a  land  devastated  by  war,  are 
clean.  Altogether  this  is  "  a  grand  country," 
from  the  doughboys'  point  of  view.  But  O, 
they're  so  pathetically  unconscious  of  the  lurking 
evil  behind  the  gilded  exterior.  Frankly  I  shall 
be  disappointed  in  our  men  if  they  don't  wake  up. 
It  seems  incredible  that  they  could  forget  so  soon 
and  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance  towards 


GERMANY  185 

a  bait  of  sweets  and  frothy  talk.  I  hope  and 
really  believe  it  won't  continue  this  way.  As 
for  me,  if  the  Fritzies  think  they  can  do  any- 
thing by  their  smirking  ways  they  sure  "  have 
another  think  coming."  Instead  of  pleasing  me, 
it  all  makes  me  so  mad  that  I  want  to  bite  them. 
The  Y  is  doing  things  on  an  enormous  scale. 
It  has  taken  over  three  hotels  here,  the  mammoth 
Festhalle  and  many  places  for  canteens,  reading 
rooms,  officers'  clubs,  etc.  Alice  and  I  have  the 
job  of  getting  the  Festhalle  furnished  and  in 
shape,  and,  as  the  building  covers  a  square  block, 
you  can  imagine  the  work  involved.  The  Fest- 
halle is  to  embrace,  besides  its  great  halls,  a 
library  of  ten  thousand  volumes,  lecture  and 
class  rooms,  billiard  rooms,  one  wet  and  one  dry 
canteen  with  kitchens  attached,  a  ball  room  and 
huge  reading  and  lounge  rooms.  So  we  have  our 
hands  full  and  have  been  buying  things  in  large 
quantities,  for  instance,  fifty  victrolas,  hundreds 
of  cups,  plates,  spoons,  pots,  pans,  etc.  Of  course 
it  is  tremendously  interesting.  Coblenz  is  to 
be  a  leave  center  for  the  seven  divisions  that  are 
stationed  within  a  radius  of  fifty  mines.  Our 
experience  at  Aix  has  proved  invaluable  and 
with  such  a  great  and  beautiful  building,  we 
should  be  able  to  make  it  attractive.  We  hope 
formally  to  open  the  Festhalle  within  a  day  or 
two,  but  already  it  is  beginning  to  look  quite  at- 
tractive with  new  easy  chairs,  lots  of  potted 
posies  and  comfortable  nooks  and  corners  where 


186  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

the  soldiers  can  read  and  write.  Mr.  Edmunds, 
our  old  chief  at  Aix  and  now  head  of  all  leave- 
area  work  in  France,  came  here  yesterday  and 
many  plans  are  afoot  to  establish  new  leave  cen- 
ters in  Germany. 

In  addition  to  the  Festhalle  work,  we  are 
dragged  out  to  social  functions,  which  must  be 
attended,  given  by  different  headquarters,  divi- 
sions, regiments,  etc. 

Coblenz,  January  2nd,  1919. 

New  Year's  day  come  and  gone,  with  all  that  it 
generally  means  of  activity  in  our  Y  world. 

The  chief  event  of  the  last  few  days  was  an 
important  dinner  with  General  Dickman  and  his 
staff  and  George  W.  Perkins  and  our  staff.  It 
was  a  ripper  —  fine  speeches  and  a  broad,  splen- 
did program  laid  out  for  the  Y  that  ought  to  do 
a  lot  for  every  Yank  in  Germany.  We  just  can't 
help  making  good  here.  Yet  so  far,  we  haven't 
really  enough  workers,  though  they  are  stand- 
ing all  over  the  Paris  streets  fairly  weeping,  so 
anxious  are  they  to  come!  The  passes  are  hard 
to  get  but  that  will  soon  be  straightened  out  and 
we  will  have  relief. 

Our  Festhalle  really  looks  lovely  for  to-night. 
We've  gotten  up  a  huge  masquerade  ball  for  the 
enlisted  men,  and  expect  to  have  fifteen  hundred 
of  them.  It's  going  to  be  fine  with  a  fifty-piece 
band,  ice  cream  and  cake.  We  have  been  on  the 
jump,  hiring  costumes.     Dr.  Alexander  will  leave 


GERMANY  187 

his  religious  activities  for  the  evening  and  is  com- 
ing dressed  as  a  fairy  or  something  equally  ap- 
propriate!    He  weighs  two  hundred  pounds. 

Coblenz,  February  1st,  1919. 

The  leave-center  plans  are  working  out  very 
well  and  the  Festhalle  is  now  running  nicely. 
As  one  enters  the  door  there  is  a  large  informa- 
tion desk,  at  which  Alice  and  I  have  been  taking 
turns.  We  answer,  or  try  to  answer,  all  the 
questions  that  are  put  to  us  by  the  two  thousand 
soldiers  who  are  in  on  leave  each  day.  One  has 
to  know  the  city  very  thoroughly  and  just  where 
different  things  can  be  purchased,  where  the  dif- 
ferent army  headquarters  are  located,  the  Chief 
Surgeon's  office,  the  dentist,  the  post  office,  etc., 
also  at  what  time  trains,  trolleys  and  trucks  leave 
for  a  hundred  or  more  small  villages  near  here. 
The  boys  ask  every  kind  of  question.  And  some- 
times the  funniest.  Yesterday  a  serious  eyed 
lad  leaned  across  the  counter  and  queried: 
"  Say,  Miss  Y,  are  you  '  information  '  ?  "  I  an- 
swered that  I  was  making  a  stab  at  it.  "  Well 
then,  could  you  tell  a  feller  how  to  go  about  mak- 
ing a  girl  fall  in  love  with  him?  " 

The  soldiers  do  enjoy  their  day's  leave,  I  think. 
We  have  theaters,  movies,  restaurants,  canteens 
and  sight-seeing  trips  for  them,  and  once  a  week 
a  costume  dance  in  the  big  Festhalle  ball  room. 
The  first  dance  was  attended  by  some  fifteen 
hundred  men,  though,  for  girls,  there  were  only 


188  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

a  few  of  us.  The  nurses  are  not  allowed  to 
dance  with  enlisted  men  so  we  other  girls  work 
overtime  on  these  occasions.  Of  course  we  have 
to  let  the  boys  cut  in  on  the  dances  and  average 
about  fifty  partners  to  each  dance,  of  which  there 
are  some  twenty  of  an  evening.  The  men  all 
wear  hob-nailed  shoes  and  you  should  see  my 
bruised  ankles!  But  they  do  enjoy  the  dancing 
so  much  that  it  is  well  worth  a  few  bumps  and 
bruises. 

All  the  hotels  in  town  are  now  managed  by 
the  Y  and  have  rations  from  the  army.  The 
meals  are  very  monotonous  but  we  seem  to  thrive 
nevertheless  —  on  beef  (horse,  the  boys  call  it), 
cabbage,  potatoes  and  occasionally  another  vege- 
table. We  hear  that  there  may  be  some  cold 
storage  eggs  soon.  Alice  has  just  paid  twelve 
marks  for  ten  eggs  to  send  to  one  of  our  girls  who 
is  ill. 

We  are  getting  Y  recruits  so  slowly  and  there 
are  not  nearly  enough  of  us.  The  work  is  assum- 
ing mammoth  proportions. 

The  Y  having  acquired  six  fine  big  boats,  the 
sight-seeing  trips  up  the  Rhine  have  begun.  Sat- 
urday I  went  on  one  of  the  trips  accompanied  by 
four  hundred  and  twenty  boys.  We  steamed  up 
to  the  Lorelei  and  back,  taking  about  six  hours 
for  the  trip.  As  I  was  the  only  girl  on  the  boat, 
I  was  kept  pretty  much  on  the  jump.  I  passed 
cigarettes,  chocolate  and  cookies,  and  helped 
serve  the  boys  their  lunch  in  the  dining  saloon. 


GERMANY  189 

The  boat  is  a  fine  one  with  large  deck  space,  upon 
which  we  danced  on  the  way  home.  The  day  was 
intensely  cold,  but  very  clear  and  beautiful. 
The  vineyards,  the  medieval  castles  at  every  el- 
bow, the  sweep  of  the  river,  it  brought  back  to 
mind  our  journey  down  this  very  stream  leaving 
Germany,  1914,  on  that  special  train  from 
Munich.  How  little  we  realized  then  what  lies 
beneath  the  smug  exterior  of  the  Boche. 

This  morning  I  was  on  duty  as  usual  at  the 
Information  Desk  and  this  afternoon  went  on  a 
trip  over  to  the  fortress  of  Ehrenbreitstein  with  a 
party  of  about  fifty  boys,  pursued  by  a  moving 
picture  man  cranking  away  at  his  camera. 

The  American  flag  is  flying  from  Ehrenbreit- 
stein's  topmost  turret !  It  will  remain  there  un- 
til the  last  of  our  army  of  occupation  leave  for 
home. 

Coblenz,  March  10th,  1919. 

We  have  a  great  number  of  "  Bird  men  "  in 
the  Army  of  Occupation,  as  there  are  three  Aero- 
squadrons  stationed  on  the  hill  overlooking  the 
city.  The  aviators  are  a  fine  bunch  and  I 
am  lucky  in  having  many  friends  among 
them. 

The  cook  belonging  to  the  94th  Squadron  is 
my  special  standby.  He  has  a  heart  of  gold  and 
each  night  when  I  go  home  I  find  small  gifts 
tucked  into  the  pocket  of  my  coat  —  sometimes  a 
couple  of  doughnuts,  done  up  in  a  piece  of  news- 


190  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

paper,  and,  again,  an  egg  or  two  which  he  has 
got  "  off  "  some  German. 

I  had  charge  of  the  Officers'  Club  here  for  a 
few  weeks  until  an  older  woman  could  be  sent 
up  from  Paris  —  and,  although  it  was  a  nice 
change,  the  work  didn't  begin  to  be  as  interesting 
as  with  the  enlisted  men.  I  was  thankful  for  my 
few  words  of  German  in  the  management  of  my 
staff  of  fourteen  servants  drawn  from  the  town. 
It  was  more  a  management  of  the  Forty  Thieves. 
They  went  off  with  everything  edible  on  which 
they  could  lay  their  hands,  those  who  were  women 
hiding  their  ill  gotten  gains  under  their  skirts. 
Lard,  butter,  and  white  flour  were  in  particular 
favor.  This  cheerful  condition  of  affairs  was 
first  discovered  by  two  M.  P.'s  suspicious  of  the 
inflated  skirts  leaving  the  Club  at  the  end  of 
the  day,  who  determined  upon  investigation  and 
caught  the  culprits  red-handed. 

The  aviators  are  very  frequent  guests  at  the 
Club,  as  they  have  nothing  to  do  up  here  and  time 
hangs  heavy  on  their  hands.  When  they  get  very 
desperate  they  do  acrobatics  in  the  air  and  fly 
under  the  arches  of  the  various  bridges  on  the 
Rhine,  cau.sing  the  square-headed  population  to 
stare  with  astonishment. 

One  Captain  flies  down  my  street  and  past  the 
Club  every  day  by  way  of  good  morning,  and,  as 
he  is  much  too  close  to  the  ground  for  safety, 
my  heart  is  always  in  my  mouth.  But  it  is  an 
alluring  manner  of  saying  good  morning! 


GERMANY  191 

Coblenz,  April  21st,  1919. 

The  coming  week  is  going  to  put  every  preced- 
ing one  in  the  shade  when  it  comes  to  being  busy. 
Two  new  and  really  beautiful  huts  built  on  the 
grounds  of  the  royal  palace  have  been  opened 
during  the  past  few  days.  They  have  been 
christened  Liberty  Hut  and  Victory  Hut  and  are 
the  most  attractive  of  their  kind  in  the  region  of 
our  army  of  occupation.  Mrs.  Lawrence,  the 
head  of  the  hut  decoration  department,  has  cer- 
tainly done  an  excellent  piece  of  work.  She  has 
lovely  taste  and  the  color  scheme  is  quite  en- 
chanting. "  Liberty  "  is  being  used  for  shows, 
dances  and  athletics  and  for  a  huge  lounge. 
"  Victory  "  comprises  a  large  cafeteria  run  on 
very  modern  methods. 

This  week  the  Third  Army  is  giving  a  carnival 
consisting  of  a  horse  and  motor  show,  aeroplane 
exhibits,  and  all  the  usual  side  shows  that  go  to 
make  up  our  country  fairs  at  home. 

Instead  of  the  usual  two  thousand  men  in  on 
leave  daily  we  are  henceforth  to  have  ten  thou- 
sand. All  of  us  are  going  to  be  worked  to  the 
limit  of  our  capacity.  The  Y  is  running  an  extra 
big  program  this  week  of  concerts,  shows,  ath- 
letic meets,  etc. —  it's  hard  to  keep  track  of  every- 
thing going  on.  I  certainly  have  never  been  so 
proud  of  the  triangle  on  my  sleeve  as  I  am  right 
now.  It's  rather  amazing  how  much  the  Y  has 
accomplished  in  recent  months  —  and  a  bit  damp- 
ening to  criticism.     But  all  the  welfare  organi- 


192  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

zations  have  done  wonderfully  well  and  I  think 
that  the  army  is,  on  the  whole,  very  satisfied. 

Coblenz,  April  24th,  1919. 

Yesterday  at  8  a.  m.  we  "  lizzied  "  out  to  the 
carnival  grounds  and  were  tremendously  busy 
there  until  dark.  I  was  in  the  refreshment  tent 
in  charge  of  one  counter,  and,  being  able  to  speak 
German,  was  continually  explaining  details  to 
the  enormous  staff  of  Madchens  who  opened  cans, 
made  sandwiches  and  did  the  heavy  work  in  the 
huge  tent  adjoining  ours.  Yet  these  damsels  had 
to  be  continually  sat  on,  as  all  they  really  wanted 
to  do  was  to  eat  everything  in  sight  and  to  flirt 
outrageously  with  the  detail  of  American  soldiers 
who  were  chopping  wood.  It's  sickening  how 
some  of  our  boys  welcome  attention  from  these 
keg-like  creatures. 

We  served  about  seven  thousand  boys  with  hot 
dogs  (a  sausage  between  two  pieces  of  roll), 
sandwiches,  doughnuts,  and  coffee. 

It  was  fine  working  side  by  side  with  the  other 
welfare  organizations.  They  have  all  combined 
on  this  carnival.  The  K.  of  C,  the  Red  Cross, 
the  Jewish  Welfare  Board,  the  Salvation  Army 
and  the  Y  were  all  represented.  It's  an  excel- 
lent thing  as  coordination  has  been  very  badly 
needed. 

Coblenz,  April  28th,  1919. 
Though  I  have  never  worked  so  hard  I  seem  to 


GERMANY  193 

be  thriving  on  it  as  usual.  Yesterday  we  served 
ten  thousand  men  here  in  three  hours  and  a  half. 
At  three  o'clock  Westy  and  I  jumped  out  of  our 
aprons  and  into  a  car  and  were  whirled  out  to 
Neuwied,  the  headquarters  of  the  Second  Divi- 
sion. There  we  went  to  a  The  Dansant  at  the 
Y  club  and  at  6.30  were  back  in  Coblenz  for  a 
dinner-dance  given  at  the  Casino  by  the  Second 
Cavalry.  Quite  some  day,  yet  not  too  much  of 
a  one  but  what  I  felt  fresh  as  a  daisy  the  next 
morning.  I  am  not  quite  as  busy  as  that  every 
day  but  I  am  always  on  the  go  twelve  hours  out 
of  the  twenty-four. 

There  has  come  finally  a  revulsion  of  feeling 
towards  the  Germans  on  the  part  of  our  boys. 
The  Boches  begin  to  see  that  they  are  not  going 
to  get  as  much  out  of  the  "  Fourteen  Points  "  as 
they  anticipated  and  therefore  the  mask  has 
fallen;  they  no  longer  conceal  their  true  feel- 
ings and  are  just  "  their  own  sweet  selves."  It 
is  a  fearful  revelation  to  some  of  our  trusting 
Sammies  and  they  are  mad  clear  through  to  find 
that  they  have  been  taken  in  by  the  German  prop- 
aganda. Americans  pride  themselves  on  being 
the  keenest  things  going  and  of  course  it's  hu- 
miliating to  find  that  they  are  not  as  bright  as 
they  supposed  they  were! 

In  some  of  the  towns  about  here  there  have 
been  riots.  Out  in  the  Second  Division  American 
soldiers  and  German  civilians  come  to  blows  on 
all  occasions.    One  marine  told  me  that,  when 


194  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

he  was  on  guard,  if  any  "  dirty  Heinie  "  dared  set 
foot  on  his  beat,  he  Just  "  walked  up  and  cracked 
him  one  over  the  head." 

The  other  day  we  had  a  review  for  General  Lig- 
gett, who  has  just  succeeded  General  Dickman  in 
supreme  command  here.  As  the  colors  were 
borne  down  the  main  street,  one  German  civilian 
refused  to  remove  his  hat.  Naturally  it  was  for- 
cibly removed  by  several  indignant  American 
soldiers.     The  lads  are  waking  up! 

Coblenz,  April  30th,  1919. 

The  last  day  of  April,  and  so  cold  one  would 
think  it  were  the  middle  of  January.  About  a 
month  ago  the  poor  little  leaves  came  out  with 
a  rush,  but  since  then  most  of  the  days  have  been 
freezing  and  it  seems  as  though  spring  would 
never  come. 

By  the  first  of  July  most  of  the  divisions  that 
made  up  the  original  Army  of  Occupation  will  be 
headed  towards  home,  I  suppose.  The  Second 
Division,  it  is  rumored,  is  to  receive  the  four- 
ragere  from  the  French  Army,  the  highest  honor 
which  the  French  bestow  upon  a  division. 

Coblenz,  May  1st,  1919. 
Some  May  day  this!  It's  raining  a  cold  driz- 
zle, enough  to  dampen  the  spirits  of  every  one, 
Including  the  Bolsheviki,  who  have  threatened 
to  paint  the  town  red  to-day.  We  have  a  double 
guard  of  M.  P.'s  all  over  the  city,  but  I  don't  be- 


GERMANY  195 

lieve  anything  very  thrilling  will  happen.  Some 
of  the  boys  tell  me  that  one  end  of  the  town  is 
hung  with  red  flags,  but  no  one  takes  much  stock 
in  such  reports. 

I  am  wondering  what  people  at  home  think 
about  the  Italian  situation,  and  whether  it  is 
true  that  "  America  stands  solid  behind  Wilson  " 
in  that  matter,  as  reported  in  the  papers. 

As  to  the  work  here  I  have  never  enjoyed  it  or 
the  boys  so  much. 

Yesterday  a  tall,  handsome  Marine  asked  me  if 
I  would  translate  some  French  letters  he  had  re- 
ceived. They  proved  to  be  from  his  fiancee  in 
France  and  he  and  I  did  a  prodigious  amount  of 
blushing  while  I  tried  to  avoid  clumsy  English 
words  that  would  not  express  the  exquisite 
phraseology.  He  drank  in  every  word  and  put 
down  certain  bits  with  the  English  translation, 
that  he  might  use  some  of  them  in  his  next  halt- 
ing French  letter  to  her.  Imagine  not  being  able 
to  read  a  letter  from  the  girl  you're  going  to 
marry !  I  felt  such  an  intruder,  and  yet  he  was 
pathetically  grateful. 

What  wonders  some  of  these  French  girls  are ! 
This  one  was  nothing  but  a  peasant,  yet  the  let- 
ters were  beautiful,  not  only  in  themselves  but  in 
the  finish  of  their  expression. 

Coblenz,  May  23rd,  1919. 
I  cabled  some  days  ago,  "  Work  here  closing." 
More  than  that  I  cannot  say,  as  no  one  can  make 


196  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

any  plans  until  the  Peace  is  signed.  Of  course, 
if  it  isn't,  everything  will  doubtless  be  changed 
again  and  our  troops  will  go  farther  into  Ger- 
many. In  that  case  no  one  knows  whether  the 
Y  will  be  allowed  to  follow  or  not,  although  we 
are  hoping  it  will. 

However,  it  doesn't  seem  very  probable  that 
there  will  be  any  trouble.  The  Boches  would 
gain  nothing  and,  I  think,  are  clever  enough  to 
see  that. 

At  all  events  emergency  measures  have  been 
taken.  Rations  are  already  issued  for  the  march 
to  Berlin  and  everything  is  in  readiness  for  the 
alerte,  which  we  are  hoping  and  praying  will 
never  come.  If  it  should,  it  will  be  interesting 
to  see  this  great  machine  get  under  way  at  a 
moment's  notice.  Of  course,  the  demobilization 
of  our  forces  is  temporarily  stopped;  these  last 
troops  will  not  b6  allowed  to  leave  until  relieved 
by  others. 

The  Y  work  at  Trier  is  already  closed  and  all 
the  Y'ers  are  being  shipped  to  Paris.  When  our 
jobs  here  are  over,  Alice  and  I  will  leave,  but 
the  Coblenz  work  will  be  the  last  to  close. 

Last  Saturday  I  had  a  wonderful  trip  to  Wies- 
baden. We  motored  down  in  about  two  hours 
and  a  half.  It's  strange  that,  in  my  many  visits 
to  Germany,  I  had  never  been  there.  The  French 
are  using  the  city  for  their  headquarters,  as  you 
know,  and  it  was  good  to  see  all  the  familiar 
blue  uniforms  again.    But  we  were  disgusted  at 


GERMANY  197 

the  amount  of  fraternizing  going  on,  German 
women  even  riding  in  French,  staff  cars.  We 
lunched  at  the  Kurhaus,  facing  those  marvelous 
gardens,  and  spent  the  afternoon  wandering 
through  the  many  attractive  shops.  German  hel- 
mets, sabers  and  even  Iron  Crosses  were  very 
much  in  evidence  in  the  windows;  these  rotten 
people  would  sell  their  very  souls  for  money; 
nothing  seems  sacred  to  them. 

At  six  o'clock  we  went  to  "  Faust,"  which,  I 
admit,  was  beautifully  given.  We  were  obliged 
to  start  for  Coblenz  after  the  second  act  for  all 
Y  girls  have  to  be  home  before  a  certain  hour. 
It  was  a  glorious  run  back.  The  road  winds 
along  close  to  the  Rhine  and  just  now  the  whole 
countryside  is  ascent  with  lilacs;  there  are 
masses  of  them  everywhere. 

Coblenz,  May  30th,  1919. 
(Decoration  Day.) 

This  morning,  bright  and  early,  a  few  of  us  got 
together  and  tied  sprays  of  roses  and  other  flow- 
ers to  put  on  the  graves  of  the  soldiers  who  have 
died  since  coming  into  Germany.  It  has  been  a 
very  warm,  cloudless  day,  and  I  have  never  seen 
a  more  lovely  one. 

We  motored  up  to  the  little  cemetery  behind 
Fort  Alexander  on  a  hill  overlooking  Coblenz 
and  the  smiling  landscape  all  about.  Such  a 
quiet,  peaceful  spot,  tucked  away  in  the  corner  of 
the  woods,  and  not  a  sound  to  break  the  stillness ! 


198  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

One  hates  to  think  of  our  boys  buried  in  Ger- 
men  soil,  and  yet,  if  it  must  be,  a  more  ideal  place 
could  not  be  found. 

Welfare  workers  were  assembled,  as  well  as  a 
great  crowd  of  soldiers  and  officers.  The  graves 
were  soon  covered  with  flowers  and  flags  and  then 
we  all  stood  in  a  large  circle  waiting  for  the  serv- 
ice to  begin.  Two  or  three  companies  of  soldiers 
were  marching  up  the  hill,  and  in  a  moment  they 
appeared  around  the  bend  of  the  road.  A  mili- 
tary band  preceded  them,  playing  the  Chopin 
Funeral  March.  Those  strains  and  the  slow- 
measured  tread  brought  back  a  hundred  pictures 
to  my  mind  and  the  many  times,  too,  I  have  heard 
those  solemn  tones  during  the  last  two  years. 

The  service  was  a  short  one.  At  its  end,  an 
aeroplane  sailed  close  overhead  and  dropped 
flowers.  Then  came  taps,  the  saddest  and  most 
poignantly  beautiful  notes  in  all  the  world.  For 
a  few  moments  thereafter  an  intense  silence  fell 
upon  the  crowd.  Slowly  the  soldiers  filed  out 
and  down  the  winding  road  and  were  lost  to 
sight. 

Coblenz,  June  19th,  1919. 

These  last  days  are  very  full  ones,  and,  as  I 
realize  they  form  the  closing  chapter  of  this 
strange  and  glorious  experience,  I  can't  help  feel- 
ing a  bit  sad,  much  as  I  did  at  the  end  of  my 
years  at  Farmington. 

A  verse  came  into  my  hands  the  other  day, 


GERMANY  199 

written  by  a  British  Y  girl  but  one  which  sum- 
marizes many  of  the  elements  of  our  own  ex- 
perience.    I  am  sending  it  along: 

CANTEEN  "  IF  " 
If  you  can  hold  your  cup  when   all   about  you 
Are  dropping  theirs  and  spilling  tea  on  you, 
If  you  can  give  right  change  when  all  men  doubt  you 
And  make  allowance  for  their  doubting  too, 
If  you  can  serve  and  not  get  tired  of  serving 
And,  being  asked  for  buns,  don't  deal  out  pies; 
If  you  can  weather  shocks  howe'er  unswerving 
And  bear  with  disappointments  and  good-byes; 

If,  giving  Self,  you  don't  let  Self  be  master; 
Or,  finding  pleasure,  don't  make  fun  your  aim; 
If  you  can  meet  with  hero  and  with  master, 
And  treat  the  "  nut "  and  navvy  just  the  same ; 
If  you  can  bear  to  hear  the  words  you've  spoken. 
Altered,  misquoted  and  misunderstood; 
Or,  see  the  cups  you  went  to  town  for,  broken. 
And  start  again  to  make  the  losses  good; 

If  you  can  make  one  heap  of  all  the  takings 
And  get  them  counted  right  at  close  of  day ; 
And  keep  the  ledgers  from  faults  and  fakings, 
And  manage  just  to  make  the  business  pay; 
If  you  can  force  your  heart  and  nerve  and  muscle 
To  do  their  work  as  long  as  they're  required; 
And  keep  your  temper  in  the  midst  of  hustle. 
And  carry  on  till  nine,  however  tired; 

If  you  can  serve  all  sorts  and  not  get  hardened, 

And  talk  with  savants  and  not  become  a  prig; 

If  real  or  fancied  wrongs  are  quickly  pardoned;  "^ 

If  small  men  count  with  you  as  well  as  big; 

If  you  can  meet  each  unromantic  moment  1 


200  CANTEENING  OVERSEAS 

"With  willing  labor  and  a  smiling  face, 

Yours  is  the  hut  and  every  one  who's  in  it, 

And  what  is  more  —  you  will  have  served  the  race. 

Life,  with  all  its  possibilities,  lies  ahead.  The 
future,  with  all  of  you  in  it,  is  an  infinitely  sweet 
promise.     Soon,  I  know,  this  will  seem  a  dream. 

Before  I  let  it  go  into  the  past,  forever,  I  am 
living  over  each  phase  of  the  twenty-four  months 
that  have  gone.  There  has  been  so  much  of 
beauty  in  them  that  I  don't  want  to  lose  and, 
again,  a  lot  of  suffering  and  things  belonging  to 
the  war  that  are  better  forgotten. 

I  trust  I  haven't  come  through  it  all  without 
learning  something.  I've  made  a  host  of  mis- 
takes, but  I  hope  I  am  more  of  a  woman  and  a 
less  selfish  one  than  when  I  sailed  away. 

One  can't  help  but  learn  to  appreciate  people 
more,  in  such  an  experience  as  mine  has  been, 
finding  a  sympathy  and  understanding  that  or- 
dinary life  doesn't  bring. 

The  opportunity  has  been  so  great.  Looking 
back,  I  wish  I  had  made  more  of  it,  had  had 
the  strength  of  ten  and  that  the  days  and  nights 
had  been  twice  as  long. 

I  will  reach  you,  I  hope,  not  long  after  this 
letter  arrives.  The  anticipation  brings  a  great 
throb  of  joy.  If  you  can,  do  come  to  meet  me 
and  stand  on  the  dock  just  where  I  left  you  cen- 
turies —  or  was  it  only  a  moment  ago? 

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